


My bestest best friend

by Katsimsam



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, Friends attempting to have kids, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Shameless Smut, Smut, Stranger is a cat - Freeform, sansan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:15:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 49,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27603377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katsimsam/pseuds/Katsimsam
Summary: Sansa doesn’t want the drama of a romantic relationship with anyone ever.... But she wants babies with Sandor.That’s pretty much it.Tags to update as we go.
Relationships: Arya Stark & Sansa Stark, Sandor Clegane & Arya Stark, Sandor Clegane/Sansa Stark
Comments: 334
Kudos: 450





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First SanSan posting, so please be gentle.
> 
> Constructive criticism, suggestions, comments, notes about editing mistakes etc. are all very welcome if you want to give them! As are kudos if you think it worth it lol.
> 
> Also I should note, that I’m not sure where this is going just yet, and anybody who has read any of my stuff already knows I have control issues. So no promises on set length etc.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> *UPDATE* 
> 
> Potential trigger warnings apply for discussions pertaining to fertility and attempts to conceive etc. - Work is supposed to be lighthearted and hopefully funny, but as it is a sensitive topic please be conscious about the potential for such in the dialogue between characters.

“- the fuck did you just say Little Bird?” He spat harshly, making Sansa shriek in surprise at the spray of fluid coming at her, where she sat beside him on the couch.

She had been practicing her pitch for days, building up the confidence to ask for weeks. And she had been assuring herself of her decision to move ahead with her plans, and to do so -  _ hopefully  _ with her best friends help, for months now. 

She had even predicted that he would blow up like the cranky shit he could be the vast majority of the time, when she did approach him. In retrospect however, it might have been wiser to wait until after he had swallowed the drink he had just taken from his beer bottle. Except that she just hadn’t been paying attention to that, in light of her own nerves.

“You heard me just fine, and a simple  _ ‘no’ _ would have sufficed. Spitting on me was uncalled for.” She joked lightly as she brushed the remnants of beer foam and spit from her blouse, scrunching her nose at him to show her discomfort, while he eyed her wearily and drained the last of the bottle quickly. - Probably so it was all gone and she couldn’t shock him into spitting it out again.

“Oh? Got a problem with my fluids do you?” Sandor snorted a gruff laugh as he sat the now empty bottle down on the coffee table with a definitive clack. “Didn’t seem to bother you two seconds ago when you wanted my sperm. Can’t handle me spitting  _ on  _ you, but you’ll be fine with me spitting  _ in  _ you, you think?”

“That’s not -“ She could feel her cheeks burning more and more red as he snarled and snapped at her. “That’s different! Don’t be an ass!” She narrowed her eyes right back at him as he glared at her.

Sansa and Sandor had been best friends for a long time. First she had been the annoying girl who moved in with her Dads best friend and his family, who Sandor worked for, when she first started university in Kings Landing. While Sandor had been the angry, borderline alcoholic security guard who’s real job was more to keep Joffrey Baratheon from winding up doing something that would result in a criminal record, than actually protecting the snivelling little shit.

She had been a bit afraid of him initially. He was a bit like an old junkyard dog who just didn’t like people in general. The Baratheons and Lannisters had even nicknamed him  _ ‘The Hound’ _ , though Joff had just called him  _ ‘Dog’ _ . 

Sansa’s refusal to call him such things was just a small part of how they went from him purposely trying to scare her at times, and her disliking him for being so mean, to respecting each other. 

Her realising that he was more bark than bite, and actually rather protective and even likeable in his gruffness and brutal honesty, - especially when it came to her for some reason, - was how they had truly started to become friends. And then his decision to get the hell away from the horrid influences of that family - namely Joff and Cersei, was what prompted her own decisions to do the same, and relocate back North. 

Somewhere along the way, he had become the only thing she truly still liked about being in The South, and if he wasn’t going to be there, she didn’t want to be either.

So North they both went. And they’d been near inseparable since.

“What’s in your head girl?” He asked quietly.

“I hate when you-“

“Aye. You hate when I call you girl or woman. I know. But you can just deal with having your feminist panties bunched up your pert ass for a minute, because I swear to fucking God you make me crazy!” He pointed a long, thick finger at her nose and even ducked himself down to be at eye level with her, to make his point. “Not often I encourage your chirping Birdy, so make it worth both our time.”

She bit his finger and laughed at his ridiculously out of character yelp of surprise, to lighten the mood. 

She tugged his big hand into her lap and laced their fingers together while she thought on her words anew. 

It was a trick she had learned a few years ago, that would keep him from jumping up and pacing or lashing out because he felt cornered. - If she held onto him, he’d sit and hear her out. Because he wouldn’t risk accidentally hurting her by pulling away roughly. 

It was underhanded of her to take advantage of how gentle he always was with her, to get him to sit down while she spoke, but he would hardly allow it if he didn’t want it either. And she needed a moment to gauge both his mood and her words a little more fully.

“I am not in a relationship-“

“No shit!” He snapped.

“Don’t interrupt. It’s rude.” She snapped at him with a glare. “I know you  _ know  _ that! I’m building my arguments-“

“Your chirping bullshit. Make your point.”

_ “I’m trying!”  _ She huffed and smacked his heavy hand to emphasise her point and reprimand him for interrupting  _ again.  _

“What I mean is that I am not, nor do I want to be in a romantic relationship. You know this, you know  _ why.  _ But what I haven’t explained to you is that I have been thinking about it for awhile now, and I don’t think I want to bother at all in that regard -  _ ever.”  _ She paused him with a raised hand as he frowned and opened his mouth the reply, before she was done. “I mean that I don’t want marriage or anything anymore. I just don’t want the drama, and I attract  _ that _ like a moth to a flame.” She rolled her eyes at his huff of agreement and continued. “ _ Anyway!  _ I have a family who love me, a best friend who is better company than most and who has sworn he would actually kill someone for me if I needed it.  _ And  _ I have more than one vibrator should I have urges that need attention. - I already have all the love and support I could get from a romantic relationship, or even a marriage, besides actual sex basically. And actual sex with another person holds about as much interest for me as walking through mud in a pair of socks.” She ignored his bark of laughter and continued. “The only thing I can’t do - rather  _ don’t want to do  _ alone, is have children.”

“They have sperm donors for that Birdy. You wouldn’t even have to have  _ actual  _ sex to knock yourself up.”

She knew that. 

She had looked into that also, and ultimately ruled it out. It was expensive, and not that she couldn’t afford it or that it wasn’t worth it, but she wanted her children to have access to their Father too. 

Plus she knew Sandor. 

She knew his quirks and the issues of his family, including the not nice things that another might not disclose. Things like addiction problems and a history of other significant mental health issues. She also knew that because of the circumstances of his own childhood, if such things were to carry down to her possible children, he would be supportive of and even be a driving force, in ensuring such things were adequately handled to give their children the best chance of controlling such things.

And it was perhaps shallow of her, but she knew what he looked like.

Though Sandor would never agree with her, thanks to the childhood scars he sported from his awful brother burning his face on the stove top, and the reconstructive surgeries he had had. - He was actually a very handsome man. 

What she found to be his most physically attractive qualities, were the things that he was most self conscious about. - Though he wouldn’t admit he was out loud.

Like the fact that he was over six and a half feet tall, and almost twice as broad across the shoulders as she was. And like how his long hair sat, always pulled to the left side of his head a little to hide the scars where his scalp was sewn back together after the burned flesh was cut away above his obviously damaged ear.

She liked his deep, shiny silver eyes and his heavy brow and slightly hooked nose. She liked his beard too, which was something she hated on most men.

She  _ really  _ liked all of his thick muscles, and how they bunched with even the slightest of movements. And how dainty and delicate he made her feel when she made him hug her. She liked how safe she felt around him because not only was he physically intimidating enough to others, he was actually trained and practiced at using his impressive bulk to protect people. 

She even liked his tattoos - not that they were a trait he might share with his children of course! But for the fact that she normally didn’t find them attractive at all, it was a necessary point in his favour for her.

She knew he had issues. Truthfully she was probably the only one who really knew all of it.

But all of it, every single little piece of information she had, only settled her resolve even more.

She simply wanted Sandor - her handsome, protective and yes - grumpy, pigheaded best friend, to Father her children. Because she loved him for who he was and because she couldn’t think of any one better than him to be the Father.

When Sansa visualised her future children, she saw tiny versions of her best friend. And she saw them in his arms - because he was the only man that she wanted in her life besides those she was related to by blood.

She didn’t  _ love  _ him, as she once imagined loving a man. But it was as close as she would get because it was as close as she would allow herself to come, and only because it was Sandor.

“It could turn out like Gregor.” He offered quietly, having obviously read and understood that she was not interested in explaining away why she wanted it to be him rather than a donor. “A kid of mine could be like my bastard of a brother Sansa. Or like my coward of a Father.”

“And a child of mine could be completely bat-shit crazy like my Aunt Lysa too. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to have children with my blood.” She shot back.

“Hardly the same fucking thing Sansa! Lysa is a good few head of sheep short in her top paddock - Aye! But she’s not homicidal.-“

“She could have been under different circumstances Sandor. She had help-“

“Aye. Therapists, medications, parents that fucking cared. And Gregor had an old man to cover his tracks instead of forcing that sort of help on him, I know. But still - it would be a big risk having a kid with my fucked up genes Birdy. That’s just one of the many reasons why I never wanted kids.”

Sansa wiggled closer to where Sandor had flopped back into the couch to stare blankly at the ceiling and think on both of their words. She lifted his arms enough so that she could cuddle herself into his chest, wrapping his heavy arms around her as she went and making herself at home there.

Sandor did no more than grunt at her antics, hold her and unconsciously rub his warm hand up and down her arm.

He was used to her determination to be physically affectionate towards him these days. It had stopped shocking and confusing him long ago. Just as he had come to realise it didn’t mean more or even less than exactly what it looked and felt like. 

They were just friends and had never even looked like being or wanting more. And even with what she had asked of him, she doubted that it would change just because of a bit of sex and a life of co-parenting. He didn’t want to settle and get married and be  _ ‘in love’  _ anymore than she did. Which was why she knew she could ask him what she had.

Things could stay the same - but for the conception of and later the presence of, their children.

“Your kid - my kid, would be ours and we would be there to make sure that they turned out better Sandor. They wouldn’t be like Gregor, because you would never let them get to the same places he got to, without getting them help.” He grunted again just to let her know he’d heard her, even if he refused to speak to what she had said. “Whether or not you want them to call you their Dad… You could just be… Something of an uncle to  _ my kids  _ if you would prefer it?” She amended quickly.

She didn’t necessarily want that, but she could not ask him to care more for them than he was willing or able to. And she couldn’t really justify asking him to be an actual  _ father _ if he didn’t want that.

“ _ Kids… _ More than one?”

She shrugged sheepishly at his frustrated grumbling.

“Fuck.” He groaned dramatically. Just like he was want to do when he knew he would give her something he pretended he didn’t want to.

Sansa squealed a little in her throat and squeezed him tight enough to make him grunt before sighing heavily and hugging her back just as tight. 

She knew he would give in impulsively if he was going to at all. The same way he’d have knocked her back cold, if he was going to. He wasn’t a man to hem and haw, he made his choices and he stuck to them.

And though he would know she wouldn’t have come to him without really knowing what she wanted, he needed to feel in control a bit, by giving her time to change her mind.

She wasn’t going to change her mind though.

“Will you want to be their Daddy?” She wanted that and she wanted him to want that too.

“Fuck if I know Little Bird! I’m still trying to figure out if you are really asking if you can have my cock or if I need to do something really fucked up - like jerk off into a cup and stuff you like a roast chicken or some shit.” Sansa shrieked indignantly and slapped at his stupid hard chest over and over until he laughed and pinned her hands down. “Stop fucking hitting me, you’ll hurt your tiny hands!”

“Don’t talk about stuffing me like a chicken!”

“That your way of telling me that you want to fuck, Sansa?” He laughed at her attempts to pull her hands free so she could hit him again. “Put your talons away, I’m just playing with you. We can talk it all out, got plenty of time to make plans and shit. Even if we got down to business right here and now, and got fucking lucky first go? We’d have nine months to work shit out.” She stopped fighting with his hold and smiled widely up at his exasperated face. “Not what I expected you to want when you let yourself in my house, I’ll give you that. Last fucking thing I ever expected to come from your little chirping beak actually. But you wouldn’t have come to me until you were sure that you wanted it, and I can’t fucking say no to you. I fucking moved to this frozen shit hole because you wanted me to stay close to you for shits sake. So I know that I’d have been in the kids life anyway, may as well be my kid I’m stuck with… Don’t know why you want me for this of all things. - Even us being friends shouldn’t be enough for you to overlook me being an ugly, old, scarred bastard with shit genes-“

“You’re  _ not-“ _

“Don’t start bullshitting about how I’m none of those things girl. I’ve agreed - at least for now! Don’t push your luck!” He glared at her in a way that she knew could and did send most people scurrying. 

She grinned and he changed tone.

“Did you want to fuck now?”

“What?!” She laughed incredulously and sat up to meet his eye more fully, slapping his chest again when she caught the way he was smirking at her. “No. Thank you.” She said primly, flicking her hair over her shoulder to really sell her faux insult.

“Suppose that’s a good thing - even if my cock disagrees. I’ll have to get tested first, haven’t done that in a while. I assume you haven’t been  _ mud stomping in socks _ with some dirty, unworthy bastard lately?”

Sansa scrunched her nose up in disgust and shook her head. 

Sandor knew full well that she hadn’t had sex in over a year. He knew she didn’t have sex outside of dating at all ordinarily, and she hadn’t been dating since the last slimy scumbag who had stuck it out only long enough to get between her legs, before hitting on her sister.

Hells! It had been Sandor who dragged Arya off of the guy and took him to the emergency room with two black eyes, a bloody nose and a pack of frozen peas on his potentially ruptured testicles. 

Of course, he had only taken him to the emergency room to ensure the guy was suitably scared away from the idea of pressing charges against Arya for whooping his ass. But still, because of that, she knew that he knew she hadn’t had sex since.

Just as she knew he hadn’t had sex for around two and a half months. 

Following the incident when she had accidentally run into one of his one night stands sneaking out his front door as Sansa was in the process of pushing her key in the lock.

The woman had wrongly and hilariously assumed she was his wife, and screamed the whole neighbourhood down about not being to blame for his  _ cheating ways.  _ Sending Sandor into an embarrassed, but still blistering rage.

He hadn’t mentioned a single woman since - nor had there been any of the usual types of evidence of any woman having been at his place.

Though she supposed that didn’t necessarily mean he hadn’t had sex somewhere else maybe, or that he was free and clean of any STI’s, so she did definitely appreciate the sentiment. 

It was so typical of him to focus on her potential safety, even in such an unusual endeavour.

“Does that mean you’ll  _ be faithful  _ until we do make a baby?” She teased him playfully.

“Fuck sake Sansa! I’m not like to stick my cock in some strange woman while I’m trying to knock you up! Condoms can only do so much and being that I won’t be wearing them with you, they do half as much again don’t they?” He growled. “Not like I’ve got women lining up to get me between their legs anyway. So I’ll  _ be faithful  _ until we fill your belly with arms and legs, and then we will go back to normal if you want. But you can fucking move in so I can look after you once there’s a kid in there. And if you’re here, I’ll hardly be fucking around too much either, will I?”

“Am I to expect an equally  _ romantic  _ proposal one day too?” She laughed long and hard at his carry on. Mostly at his petulant demands that she move in, and at the way he was huffing and crossing his thick arms over his chest and glaring at her for her cheek.

“Fuck off. You want that one day, you can do the asking. And in the meantime  _ you _ can protect  _ me _ from Mother Stark and her scary stone hearted vengeance when she learns I’ve filled you up with a Clegane pup at all, let alone  _ without  _ fucking marrying you first.”

Sansa laughed in delight and leaned herself into his magnificently manly form, tipping her head to rest on his shoulder and blinking up at him with big innocent eyes. “You are the bestest best friend that ever was Sandy. I love you.”

“Aye I am. And you’d fucking want to  _ love me _ , after what I just agreed to! But call me Sandy again and I’ll spank that perky ass of yours red raw and make you beg for my cock before I give it to you.” He grumbled back as he loosened his arms and pulled her back to himself to wrap them around her again. “Actually that sounds like a good fucking time - if you’re interested in making the sex a bit of fun?”

“ _ Sandor!” _

“That’s a  _ ‘no’  _ to the spanking and begging. Fine. I’ll still have fun. Might even prove that sex shouldn’t be anything like what you’ve had with all those wankers you’ve dated...  _ Fucking walking through mud in socks she says!  _ \- Useless cunting bastards with tiny little pricks that they don’t know how to use, is what they were! - I promise Birdy, I’m not small at all, and I know what a fucking clitoris is and where to find it.”

“Oh my God! Stop!” She shrieked with laughter again as he shrugged her embarrassment over his teasing off and grinned like he was right pleased with himself for making her squirm.

Her curiosity was somewhat piqued - but she didn’t want things to get weird between them either. 

Them having sex was to get her pregnant and that was it. Then they could go back to just being them, but with babies.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor... And let’s meet Stranger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit! Thank you all so much for the enthusiasm over chapter 1, and for all of your comments! I am so very happy to know you all enjoyed it so much!
> 
> I love that so many of you are excited for what’s to come!
> 
> Here’s hoping I can keep delivering!

_The green days are what I have appropriately dubbed ‘go days’... Blocks of yellow either side of the ‘go days’ are ‘maybe days’.... Black are ‘no go days’... Blocks of orange are ‘probably not days’ … Fairly regular cycle, but allowing for a margin of error in calculation._

  
  


Sandor cursed roundly and shoved his fingers aggressively across the screen in a bid to shut down the calendar the Crazy Bird had somehow managed to link to his fucking phone, while her stupidly worded description played over in his head.

He knew what it was, even if she hadn’t said it plainly, he wasn’t a buggering idiot!

Why he needed a calendar for it, he had no fucking clue.

He had agreed to being her prized stud stallion, and he’d even gone and had himself tested the very next day just in case she decided she wanted to fuck soon. 

But beyond sending her his results, and receiving hers in reply despite them not being needed and him not having asked them of her, he hadn’t fucking seen her or spoken to her much in the past bloody week!

And now she was sending him a stinking calendar that told him shit he already knew!

She was the only person in the world he buggering cared for! - There were a few others he liked, and a few more he tolerated, but outside of Sansa, her family and his cat? He’d be lucky to use all the fingers on one of his fucking hands to count the cunts he actually _liked._

Sansa and Stranger were his _family_ or whatever. Maybe Arya too, it depended on his mood and hers, on any given day... But for the most part, it was Sansa and Stranger.

And just like he knew when Stranger needed a shit, or wanted to be fed, he knew when Sansa was bleeding. 

Stranger, the giant black mongrel would sit on his chest in the mornings and glare at him until he woke up and either let him outside, cleaned his litter, or scrounged up some grub for him. Or if he was already up, the fucker would follow him around and whine until he did those things instead.

And when Sansa bled, she’d show up at his place in the evenings with excessive amounts of baked goods or sweets of some description, and a bottle of that horrid sweet wine she only ever drinks when she’s got her period. Usually she’d be wearing her ‘comfy clothes’, and she’d lay all over him or his couch like Stranger did to her when he was being a sulky little bastard.

With Stranger, he was a bit of a cunt all the time. And he had learned it was a shit idea to leave him home alone, because the fucker would shit in his clothes hamper instead of the perfectly fine litter box he had, for Sandor daring to leave him alone in the house for too long. 

He had been forced to take the surly mongrel to the gym every fucking day, with him because of it. The spoiled shit even had a chair that matched his recliner at home, in Sandors office, and a cat climbing tree on the gym floor too, so he’d stay out of the boxing ring, and off the grappling mats, weights, machines and even the rock wall.

With Sansa at least, her emotional shit was dependent on what day on that fucking calendar it was. And he had learned to not give into her demands to watch chick flicks, or dramas, or anything related to baby animals, or animals and pets that die part way through the story, while she feasted on cakes or ice cream. Because she’d fucking cry and he would have to calm her down again. He also learned not to touch her fucking sweets, because she was every bit as vicious as a bird of prey when it came to her comfort food, and his fingers getting too close to them.

He didn’t need her damned _calendar!_

Truth be fucking told, he had been expecting that she’d send him a text at work to let him know she was staying at his place the night for the purposes of a good screwing, or she’d simply show up and tell him it was happening, and it would continue like that until she was pregnant.

He bloody definitely hadn’t expected that he’d be given specific days to prepare for well in advance.

Things were weird enough between them as it was, without her knowing that he knew that shit about her too.

Not just because she asked for the use of his dick, and fairly well set out the rest of his life for him in doing so. But also because he couldn’t remember a time since following her North, where they went so many days with a few texts and emails as their only communication.

He wasn’t a pussy-ass shit-stain, so he wasn’t going to bitch about it. But it did burn his piss a bit to have his best friend thinking of him only as an extension of his cock for the moment.

Sandor would suck it up, and keep his damned trap shut because it was his Little Bird, and she wouldn’t have meant to offend him by her obnoxiously over organised ways. Plus he had agreed to be the father of her kid, and maybe even _kids_ anyway. So he couldn’t justify being offended too much. Not when she was picking him for something so important to her.

He had agreed because he’d have probably ended up raising the brats as if they were his, beside her anyway.

He had known for a while now that Sansa wasn’t going to settle down with any of the douchebags she had a tendency to bring home. Despite her _best efforts_ , none of the cunts were worthy of her. Partly because she kept picking poncey little pricks, and partly because she had never given it her _true_ best effort. 

To do that she knew she’d have to put at least some distance between herself and Sandor to make anything work with anyone else. And she wouldn’t do it. 

It was pretty obvious that she didn’t want to, but he didn’t believe it was because she didn’t want a man in her life. She just didn’t want one who wouldn’t accept him with her. And no man was going to do that without being a jealous cunt.

He wasn’t so fucking generous and selfless that he wanted her to give him up for another guy either.

So he figured that if he was going to look after her while she raised her kids, the kids may as well be his. 

Even if he had never wanted to risk kids with his fucked up genes, at least she knew what to expect with his swimmers, and at least his Birdy would be protected legally, if something happened either between them, or to him.

She’d never be stuck wondering what it was like to have the kids father around to help, and the kid would never have to wonder who his Dad was.

Sandor would have to be legally and financially responsible for the kid at least. Meaning that if shit _went south_ between them, she and the kid would still have his support. 

As it was, if he kicked the bucket early, Sansa would get all of his shit. At least if the kid was his, he’d have something of his old man if that happened too, and they both _or all_ , would have stability and a home of their own, outside of Sansas income and trust fund.

It wasn’t much, but it was more than anyone else in his family had ever had. He had worked his ass out for years, first in the military and then for rich assholes so that he could claim that at least. But now he owned his house and the gym he’d built from the ground up after moving North. Plus he had the shitty little old farm house a couple of hours out of Lannisport that his grandparents had left him too.

He really had no idea what to do, or how to do it, to be a decent dad. But he did know what not to fucking do! He had plenty of hands-on experience in shit fathers.

He just had to be better than his cunt face of a sire, and hope that none of the kids turned out like fucking Gregor.

And he fucking supposed that being better than his own old man started with not being a cranky fucker. Even if it was over something like his kids mother scheduling his fucking sex life according to a colour coded calendar.

It also started with at least living under the same roof as her.

  
  


——————

  
  


Unsurprisingly, Sansa beat him to his place.

She had already let herself inside and was in the process of unpacking the Braavosi take away she said she would pick up for them when he texted to tell her that they needed to talk that night, when he and Stranger walked in the front door.

He didn’t give her much of a chance to greet him, or even the jackass of a cat who had dived straight up on the counter for a pat, and to check out the food.

He hauled her into his chest and bent his head, pressing a hard kiss to her pretty lips and ignoring her squeaks and chirps of surprise entirely.

To say that he was shocked that she didn’t push him off and slap seven shades of shit out of him for it, would be a fucking understatement. Even more so when he felt her accepting his attentions, and relaxing into his kiss enough to return it.

“Wha-“

“Making a point Birdy.” He explained, breathing harshly against her pretty pink lips. “If you can’t handle a bloody kiss, you can’t handle _that._ ” His eyes flicked south pointedly.

Sandor snorted, rolled his eyes and released her as she realised he was referring to his dick, which was already responding to their proximity.

He wasn’t going to apologise for drawing attention to it.

She was a fucking stunner, she always had been, and she fucking knew it.

If she didn’t know she could get him hard without any bloody effort, it was because she’d never bothered to take notice of all the times she had given him a boner by cuddling up to him over the years.

It was possible that she hadn’t even thought about the fact that he was in possession of a real life cock until she decided she wanted it.

She was his friend and there hadn’t ever been any real interest between them, beyond him thinking her hot and very fuckable when they’d first met. - And maybe having a fantasy or two while beating off in those early days. Days that were long past by the time they became true friends.

So it never meant anything.

He was a man, a straight one at that. And he was not a fucking Septon either. Sansa was a pretty little, soft woman who smelled nice and liked to rub up against him. It was a basic instinct for his body to react to hers.

“Wait!” She squeaked and grabbed hold of his arm as he turned towards the fridge. 

Sandor grunted but allowed her to spin him back around to face her, with her tiny hands wrapped around his bicep tightly.

He was amused by the blush that stole over her pretty head, and he wasn’t one bit sorry for smirking at her over it either.

“ _Yes!_ I’m blushing you ass!” She flapped her wings and puffed herself up just like an angry Little Bird. “But you! _Mister!_ You walked in this door and _kissed me_ ! You didn’t even say ‘hello’ first! There was no _‘Hi Sansa, how was your day!’_ Just _bam!_ Lips on mine!”

Sandor leaned his weight back into his rear leg, crossed his arms over his chest and grinned as she huffed and puffed and shook her finger at him.

“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t object! It actually felt pretty nice, once I got past the initial shock! _But!_ I need an explanation that’s better than what you gave, and I need to know if it means you… _Want… Things-“_

“Alright, let me stop you there before you explode Birdy… You want to give us a real go, I’ll fucking get on board. If you want to keep things as they are with the addition of you moving in, and us fucking from time to time - either to knock you up, or just _for the fun of it_ , I already said I’m fucking here for that. I kissed you, because I don’t fancy having my best friend turning her head, or pretending it’s not me fucking her, when it is. That’s all.” He stated gruffly. “I’m an ugly bastard Sansa, and it’s fucking crazy enough of an idea that we jump in the sack together as things are, but if there’s no attraction at all on your end, it gets a whole lot buggering harder, it will get complicated and it fucks with our friendship.”

He turned away quickly so she wouldn’t see the stinking vulnerability in his eyes. He hadn’t actually meant to be that bloody open, _or_ that weak about it. But what he said was the fucking truth whether she liked hearing it, or he liked saying it, or not.

He reached into the fridge, finally wrapping his giant paw around the cold beer he had been tonguing for all damned day. And giving her a minute to process all of what he said.

“Wouldn’t it get weirder still… If we tried to… _give us a real go?_ ” Her voice sounded tiny, and unsure. “Because… I mean… I thought _neither_ of us were looking for anything _romantic.”_

Sandor sighed heavily and reached for a second beer before straightening up and holding one of them out to her.

He opened his and took a big slug, keeping his eyes on her, in a bid to get a read on her. Whether it was her fear of shooting that idea down completely and offending him, or what he didn’t know. But she was obviously concerned about some such shit. 

He actually hadn’t expected her to question that as a possibility at all.

Sandor wasn’t even sure he meant it as an offer rather than an off handed comment. But apparently they were going to talk about that too.

“Don’t know that it’s any worse than what we are already doing, is it?” He strolled closer and leaned into the counter beside her, and wasn’t all that shocked when she leaned into his side automatically, even going so far as to press her face into his arm and blink her big blue eyes up at him over the round of his shoulder. “I wanted you here to talk about you just moving in now and being done with. You’re here all the fucking time anyway, except for this last week, and as I said the other day, I will be looking after you once there’s a kid in you anyway. May as well just do it now.”

“So we would live together as friends who _sleep together_ so I can have your babies-“

“And because sex is fucking fantastic and I intend on showing you that it’s _at least_ better than you think it is.” He interrupted with a cocky grin.

Sansa rolled her eyes at him and poked him in the side. - Probably for interrupting her. She fucking hated that.

“That’s yet to be proven.” He snorted rudely at her snippy tone, and sucked at his bottle. “But suppose I’m willing to give sex with you _for fun_ , as well as to make our baby, the benefit of the doubt, at least until one of us is proven correct in our respective opinions on the matter.” Sansa paused and swallowed hard as she picked at the label on her bottle. Looking away from him entirely so she could as she did. “Hypothetically speaking, would you _want_ us to be together- _together_ , or just that… Friends who share kids and occasionally sleep together and otherwise do our own thing outside of parenting our children?”

Sandor groaned and scrubbed at his beard in annoyance.

He wasn’t fucking sure what the bloody difference was really. He wasn’t going to screw around if she wanted to be friends with benefits. Not while they were trying for a kid. And if or when she learned fucking could be bloody spectacular, she could potentially want it more too. So he wouldn’t be fucking around trying to pick up someone else, or risking sticking his dick in some nameless chick who could give him and then Sansa some infection or disease, even outside of them putting a kid in her belly either.

Not when he could just have sex with her or jerk off.

“Fuck it.” He grunted and downed the last dregs of his beer quickly. “We will get your shit from your place on Saturday. I’ve got one personal training session in the morning and then I’ll have to catch up on some paperwork so I’m not stuck at the gym till eight o’clock every night next week. But after that, I’ll come by and help you pack and load up. Not like you’ve gotta give notice to your folks that they need a new renter for the guesthouse is there? We can hammer out the details for finances and all that shit later.”

“Presumptuous of you. But fine. Now or later hardly matters, and as you say, my parents will hardly care that I move out of their guesthouse on short notice… Now to the question I am sure you are avoiding answering.” She huffed at him, annoyed by his high handedness and his non answer. “Am I moving in with my best friend and occasional _intimate partner…_ Or am I moving in as-“

“Fuck sake woman! There doesn’t need to be a label. As I told you last damned time! We could fuck right here, right now and knock you up in the process, and we would still have at least nine months to get our shit sorted out before the kid gets here.” He growled dangerously, lurching forward to put his bottle in the bin, retrieve another, slam the fridge and scoop up the takeout box that he knew had his herb roast chicken and steamed vegetables and rice dish, to stalk towards his couch so he could eat in peace when they were done talking. “Me fucking kissing you, was for the exact reasons I bloody gave you! - Just needed to know that when push comes to shove, you won’t be disgusted by getting naked and busy with me. So just fucking move in as Sansa, the crazy fucking Little Bird who wants a belly full of my kid enough to send me completely gods damned batty! And we will see what happens as it happens after that. _If you want to try for more, we will, if you don’t, alright._ .. Least that way, if we decide that it’s just friends with kids that we want, and Mother Stark asks questions when you tell her you are pregnant, you can say that we got drunk with dinner one night and woke up naked together. You can say it meant nothing and I will do the right thing and support you and my kid, but we are _just friends._ ”

He ignored her as she moved closer with her own dinner, and focused his attention on tearing the delicious herb encrusted chicken leg apart with his fingers and teeth.

The truth was that Sandor hadn’t been expecting any of the shit they did talk about - except for the bit about her moving in. Because that was why he wanted to talk to her in the first place.

But because of where things headed after he kissed her, he felt exposed and it was making him twitch.

He only meant to prove a point.

And now he couldn’t even bloody remember what the actual point had been. Yet he could still feel the way his lips tingled at the feel of hers pressing back. He could still hear his blood rushing in his ears.

Sansa was attractive, but he didn’t think he had been necessarily attracted to her in a sexual way, for years.

And now it was crystal fucking clear that he had been dead ass wrong about that.

“Alright.” She smiled sheepishly at him. “But I’m not lying to anyone, not even my Mother, about how our child came to be conceived. I won’t allow anyone to think that we didn’t _choose_ to bring them about.”

Sandor grunted in answer, not game to speak to how _that_ made him feel.

“I’ll have my stuff ready for when you arrive on Saturday afternoon, and at least to begin with, I’ll take the room I usually sleep in here, for my own… And for the record, you can kiss me _if you want to_ , whenever you want to.”

“If that’s what you want Little Bird. Good. Now eat.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so obviously Sandor freaked himself out after not really seeing much of Sansa in the week since he agreed to her baby making request. And then he got a bit offended by his potential future sex life being mapped out in a lovely colour coded calendar...
> 
> And now they are both thoroughly confused about what they want individually and what the other May or may not want. But apparently kissing is acceptable. Lol.
> 
> Let me know what you think.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa.

There was a hand on her breast.

Not just resting on top of it or against it, but it had been actively pushed up inside of her sleep shirt and was now gently cradling her soft flesh, while a very familiar feeling nose and bearded face nuzzled at her nape.

The nuzzling was what woke her, yet she didn’t know if her bed fellow was even awake himself, or if he was maybe reacting on instinct to the warm body beside him while in that hazy period between sleep and wakefulness.

Her mind was at war with itself over how to navigate the curious moment she found herself in. On one hand, she knew it was wrong to encourage further _affections_ \- at least until she knew if he was awake. And on the other hand she had never been quite so easily aroused, and it made her curious.

Her body had no such compunction.

Her nipple was hard and tingling delightfully under the calloused attention it was receiving. And her hips and legs seemed quite content to close whatever distance there might have been left between her and the large, hard body behind her.

Her nerves were rioting. From the unexpected touches themselves, her reaction to them, and because of who was giving those touches.

She had agreed to spend the night when she realised just how late it had gotten when she thought to head home the night before. And they had agreed to share Sandors bed in a bit of a trial run for future _sleepovers._ But it was meant to be a little _less_ than it was currently becoming. At least she had assumed it was, being that he hadn’t tried anything until now.

He hadn’t even kissed her again after that initial time.

Even with her express permission, and with her actually climbing into his bed beside him, he hadn’t attempted to head them in any truly intimate direction until that very moment.

“Sandor?” She whispered softly.

He grunted softly against her skin and flicked over her hard nipple with his thumb, sending sensation shooting through it and directly to her centre, making her squeak a bit from the shock of it.

He was most definitely awake.

Sandor was awake and was consciously aware of what he was doing to her body, and how her body was all but screaming encouragements at him to continue doing it, too.

She bit her lip to keep from laughing at the utterly surreal moment she found herself in.

“You’ve spent the last hour rubbing your ass on me Birdy. I _could_ have moved away or woken you, but I’m a selfish bastard and it felt good. So here we are. If you want to stop, say so. Otherwise I’m going to keep going.” He grumbled, his hot breath sliding over the shell of her ear right along with the feather soft touch of his lips brushing over it. “Don’t have all morning, the fucking cat will be demanding attention soon and we’ve both got to get ready for work. But I think I can manage to get you and me both off with my hands at least, with what time we have, if you’re interested.”

Sansa whimpered pathetically at the way he nipped at her ear and rubbed over it and the corner of her jaw with his nose, while at the same time palming at her breast more obviously and leaning in to press himself more fully to her bottom.

It was a full scale assault on her senses and the bastard found her overwhelmed reaction both amusing and encouraging.

She was tingling everywhere and growing properly wet between her thighs, which usually took far more effort on her partners behalf.

Yet this was her best friend, and she had assumed that she wouldn’t react the way she was, or that he’d want her to - _unless_ they were getting to the actual point, of sex for the purposes of conception.

He was seducing her, and she couldn’t fight it. She didn’t think she even wanted to at this point, because as he said, _it felt good_.

But she did need to make at least one point before they went any further.

“I was asleep, I can hardly be blamed for _rubbing_ on you when I was asleep!”

“You’re not fucking sleeping now though, are you? And I can feel that you want it… Right now, you fucking _want_ _me,_ Birdy.” He laughed and laid a wet kiss to the fleshy part of her shoulder, where her shirt failed to cover her up. “Your choice though, I can just as easily leave you to deal with your wet cunt, and have a wank in the shower to take care of myself.”

“Sandor!” She gasped and turned her head to stare at him in shock.

His eyes were a warm, molten silver and his grin was positively wicked.

“What?” He snorted. “You’re wet and twitching and I know it. Just as surely as you know I’m hard as a fucking rock. No point pretending we both don’t know it.” He cocked a brow in outright challenge. “I’m just offering to _help a friend out._ \- By fingering her until she screams.”

_“Sandor!”_

“Aye! Just like that.” He laughed.

Sansa shrieked and twisted to hit him, her face burning every bit as red as her hair.

Sandor reacted faster than she would have believed possible for a man his size and rolled with her, wrestling her around until she was shrieking with laughter and finding herself effectively pinned to the bed under him.

She shuddered out a breath, her laughter falling away at the suddenly serious look on his face, where it hovered over her own.

He was between her thighs. 

They were pressed together in a way that they had never been. And the resulting tension was cloying.

“Tell me to stop, or get off you. Fucking tell me that your done with this whole thing, if you need to Sansa. Just say the word and it’s done. We were and are just having some fun here - but if you don’t wan-“

She interrupted him without thought. Stretching up and pressing her lips hard to his, and earning herself a grunt of surprise.

And then another as she wrapped her arms around his neck and rubbed her whole body against his, while her tongue slipped into his mouth.

Sansa didn’t know what the hell she was doing.

None of what was happening was happening along any lines of any potential plan she might have had. And she didn’t want to give herself time to think too much on any of it.

His weight was over her, his hard dick pressing firmly against her slit, his tongue and lips matching the unexpected hunger of hers. 

And she _liked_ it.

She liked it, and she wanted more.

Sandor slipped and dropped his weight more fully onto her for a split second, their teeth clacking hard, surprising them both enough to pull away. 

He growled and cursed the dark, furry head she could see propped over his shoulder and glaring at them both with judgemental yellow eyes. - The culprit for their interruption.

“Fucking cat.” He snarled.

Sansa couldn’t help but laugh at the way the two were glaring at each other. 

Stranger had apparently decided it was time for Sandor to get up, and he had no qualms about making his demands known. Nor did he care that they were obviously busy.

She had been about thirty seconds off reaching down to shove and wiggle both of their pants off and out of the way, and now she was trying desperately to figure out if Strangers timing was a good thing or bad thing. 

Whether the mood was lost completely, or if they could maybe bring it back around without it being awkward, if Sandor did get up to deal with Stranger out of the way. _And_ whether or not they _wanted_ to bring the mood back around, more importantly.

“Fucking fucker.” Sandor groaned and dropped his head into her neck like a sulking child. “I have to deal with him. The cockblocking mongrel is likely to go on the attack if I don’t.”

“I’ve yet to decide if he has terrible timing, or very good timing.” She mused with a breathy laugh, while patting lovingly at both the black heads before her.

“The answer is terrible. He has terrible fucking timing! Another minute and we’d have been fucking like a pair of beasts, Sansa.” Sansa flushed as red as her hair again as her best friend and now _apparent lover_ popped up from her neck to hover above her again. “Fucking spontaneously, just because we bloody want to, would take the pressure off the first time. We wouldn’t have time to think, so it wouldn’t get fucking weird… And that shithead just fucked that up royally on us.”

“Well?” She giggled uncontrollably as she looked up at their very judgemental intruder. “At least you get a _guaranteed_ happy pussy this morning, with a lot less effort too.”

“Oh fuck off!” He groaned and huffed a laugh at her while shrugging to get his boy off of him. “You can fuck off too Stranger. - I’ll go feed the prick and then I’m going for a shower.” He pinned her with a taunting look. “If the mood isn’t lost completely, feel free to join me.”

He left it at that, an open offer that she could accept or deny as she pleased, and leaned in to steal another kiss before pulling away entirely and getting up to follow his cat out of the bedroom. 

She bit her lip and covered her burning face with her hands as she listened to him upbraiding the big black cat that she knew full well he loved more than any living being, but for maybe her, for his untimely interruption.

“Hey Sandor?” She called out, looking through her fingers towards the door even though she couldn’t see him in the kitchen from where she was laying.

Her heart was racing, but she just needed to know one thing.

“What?” He yelled back.

She licked her lips and shuffled about in his bed uncomfortably before closing her eyes and forcing herself to calm down and ask.

“Did you mean for… Was this morning… Planned? - Were you hoping to-“ she stuttered and stumbled, and paused awkwardly to take a deep breath and gather herself.

“For fuck sake Sansa!” Her groaned quietly, but not so quietly that she missed it like he maybe hoped she would. “I didn’t fucking tell you to stay here and to sleep in my bed so I could talk you into morning sex, you crazy, paranoid Little Bird! - I just took advantage of the situation presented by _you_ getting frisky _with me_ in your sleep. - I’m not that big of a cunt.”

Sansa swallowed the shame of having implied that down hard, and turned towards the door as his footsteps sounded back through the living room and short hallway, indicating his return.

Sandor stopped and crossed his thick arms over his hairy chest, leaning into the door frame to watch her as she still laid prone in his bed, exactly as he had left her.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” She whispered softly. 

Honestly she was a little hurt that he would jump to the conclusion that she thought he was being a dick and wanting to take advantage of her, by maybe having planned for their moment this morning.

She knew he wasn’t that type of guy at all, let alone with her. And he knew that she knew it.

“I only asked… I was just curious as to whether _thi_ s-“ she waved to indicate herself and him and the bed itself. “Was as spontaneous as it felt, or if you were maybe trying to help me get into it without suffering through any sort of anticipation anxiety.” She shrugged and sat up, tucking her knees to her chest and looking away from him entirely. “I wasn’t judging or complaining at all… I just… It felt natural and not forced or contrived in any way… And I liked that it felt that way.”

“There was nothing forced or contrived or bloody planned about it Birdy. The only plans that have come into any of this shit, are the ones for the kid, and to make this shit more comfortable for us.” He stated with a quiet, earnest voice and pushed off the door frame to come and sit beside her on his bed. “Sansa, I wasn’t even thinking about the kid you want this morning… Just wanted to make you feel good.” He huffed a gruff laugh and scrubbed at his face. “And get pay back for your little ass teasing me. Plus, I don’t know if you know it, but having blue balls fucking sucks… So I was really bloody hoping to avoid them too.”

She scrunched her face up and snickered at that information.

She did actually know that it could be painful, or at the very least uncomfortable for a guy to not _finish what was started._ \- She’d had enough asshole boyfriends who liked to attempt to gaslight her into thinking that she was at fault for their suffering whenever she wasn’t in the mood.

She’d also heard Sandor and her brothers - much to her disgust - complain about having them before.

But he wasn’t pointing fingers at her for him possibly having them this day either. He was simply stating the facts. - He wanted to tease her too, and he wanted to take them both to the natural conclusion of that teasing. - At least until Strangers unwelcome interruption.

“You wanted to-“

“Aye, I wanted to fuck you. At the very least, I wanted to make you come and then jerk off over having done so.” He interrupted and then smirked at her squeak of discomfort over his crass words. “Still do woman. But we don’t have fucking time for that now. I need to get ready for work, and you need to get your shit sorted and get home so you can get ready for work too.”

Sansa flushed awfully again. 

She was a little shocked and quite confused over the happenings of the entire morning - and even the night before still also.

She didn’t know what any of it meant. Either for their friendship as it stood, or for the future that she had planned for them either. 

“Get out of your fucking head.” He groaned, interrupting her thoughts. “Don’t overthink it, don’t analyse it. It is what it fucking is, and it isn’t what it fucking isn’t. Let it be and let it happen as it will, for fuck sake.”

“Bu-“

“No buts. I bloody love you… And you are a silly enough Little Bird, that you apparently love me too. Doesn’t buggering have to be or mean anything more or less than that. Might be that it’s only as friends, who fucking knows! We will get around to knocking you up, but we don’t need to put pressure on ourselves to do it.”

She smiled sheepishly, feeling curiously touched by his words.

Sandor groaned and stood, stretching as he went. Hoping to, but failing miserably at pretending that he wasn’t even remotely uncomfortable by his sweet outburst.

“Now get out of my fucking bed, else I’m getting naked and getting back in there with you.” He pointed a long finger at her nose. “I do that, and will be both be blowing the day to spend it fucking until we can’t walk, and until you realise that your theory of it being like a stroll through the mud is _really_ fucking wrong.” 

He laughed darkly down at where she was still sitting, stubbornly glaring up at his stupid handsome face. 

“You’re a fucking tempting little thing this morning girl. Haven’t I told you not to taunt the dog unless you want to be the bone.”

“That mean you want to _bite me,_ Sandor?” She taunted with a wicked grin.

“My fucking oath it does! Bite, chew, lick-“

“Alright! Enough!” She shrieked and shoved at him as he bent down over her, planting his hands on the bed either side of her hips, and nuzzling at her cheek. “As you said, we don’t have time this morning.”

“Fucking tease, you are.” He huffed a laugh and kissed her hard before straightening and palming at himself as he strutted into the bathroom without looking back.

“You staying tonight?” He called out from the bathroom attached to his bedroom, making her laugh.

“No, I’ve got to start packing my stuff.”

“Fuck your stuff. We will deal with it Saturday together. If I leave you alone too long you’ll start _overthinking_ shit again.”

She rolled her eyes and climbed out of the bed finally, eyeing the rumpled state of it with an oddly happy little smile that was all for herself.

She certainly hadn’t expected to wake up the way she had, not even with knowingly climbing into Sandors bed after they had kissed and agreed to have children together… 

But she couldn’t bring herself to bother with _overthinking it._

She had liked waking up that way with Sandor, in a way she had most definitely _not_ liked doing so with anyone else before.

So, as he had said, _it was what it was._ They could play things as they come she supposed. - The idea was more and more intoxicating by the minute.

She just hoped it didn’t do irreparable damage to what they already had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo... Apparently Sandor isn’t interested in playing by the ‘rules’ - or by the calendar either...
> 
> Also? Do we give treats for Stranger for being a hilarious cockblocker, or banish him to the spare room from now on? Lol
> 
> Did I throw away any possibility of a slow burn? Yes, yes I did and I’m not sorry lol. 
> 
> Let me know what you think.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meet Arya.

“-what in shitting hell-“

“Hey you big shit! Knock it off, or we’ll be replacing yet another bag! And I  _ like that one!” _

Sandor breathed hard, sucking in precious oxygen to expand his chest as far as it would go and letting it rattle back out again. His eyes focusing first on the bag before him - the one he had been beating out his frustrations on, then the tiny black boxing glove that had smacked him up the side of the head, laying limp at his feet. And then finally on the little bitch who threw it at him, perched like a damned cat on the corner post of the boxing ring to his left.

She wasn’t wrong, he was about two decent hits from splitting the bag before him. - Not that it would be the first time, or likely the last. But again, the little bitch wasn’t wrong, he’d just replaced a couple of the bags, and for some reason she was particularly fond of the one he’d been battering.

Now that he’d stopped, he could feel the burning of his muscles and the aches in every joint, from wrists to shoulders. Which told him he’d been at it for far longer than he either meant to, or realised.

The very fact that it was Arya Stark who had interrupted him, told him even more, that he had been out of control.

For some reason it was the smallest chick in the joint, ahead of all the well built and trained guys, who had the brass enough to approach him when he was clearly in a black mood.

“Get off the fucking ropes like that!” He barked.

Sandor refused to let the grunt that wanted to escape his lips surface, as he bent to retrieve her glove and launch it back at her, secretly hoping it would topple her onto her back inside the ring.

“I’m not on the fucking ropes, idiot.” She shot back, springing up to prove her stupid bloody point, by balancing herself easily, in a standing position, on top of the corner post. While the flying boxing glove went in a wide arc, missing her completely. “And  _ that-“  _ she pointed to where it landed a good three feet from her. “Is proof you’ve been at it too long! The  _ Big Bad Hound _ has jelly for arms and can’t hit an easy target.”

He growled dangerously at the evil little thorn in his side and gripped the top of the bag to lean his weight into it, while point a fucking annoyingly shaky finger at her.

“You fall from there Runt, and I’m not paying for your medical bills!”

“You have to asshole! I work here, and even if I didn’t an injury incurred on your property makes you liable.”

She poked her tongue out at him and jumped down backwards into the boxing ring, without even fucking looking to see she was in the clear.

“You work here because you’re a stubborn, pigheaded little shit who showed up and refused to leave, and then filled out your own fucking paperwork to hire yourself!” Sandor pushed off the bag again with a wince and stalked off towards his office, sneering at the rest of the cowardly bastards who worked for him, standing around watching them argue. “And for the record, you’re still not covered if you are doing stupid shit that you’ve been told not to do.” He threw over his shoulder at the girl.

Like he knew she would, she strutted after him without a single lick of fear.

“ _ Stupid shit  _ like pounding on a bag for near two hours without real any sort of pause? Be thankful I stopped you when I did, else you’d be facing  _ my sister _ while she visits you in hospital because you’ve either fucked your wrists and knuckles or blown your shoulders out, old man!” She yelled like a right smug shithead.

Sandor didn’t bother replying with words, there was no point, it would only encourage the littlest Stark woman to keep badgering at him.

In that way, she was exactly like her sister and her Mother. All three of them were good at needling him, usually until they got their damned way over something or other. Except that with Arya, it was more because she just liked to argue, and because she took some sort of fucked up, perverse delight in annoying the shit out of him in particular, sometimes even more than she did her actual brothers.

Usually it amused him.

Not when her sister had already gotten so far under his skin as she had over the course of the last week and a bit. And particularly in the last days.

He picked Stranger up and dropped into the armchair he kept in his office specifically for his cat, and then dropped the heavy, obviously annoyed feline into his lap before reaching into the small bar fridge beside it and pulling out a bottle of water. Completely ignoring the devil child that had stalked after him into the room.

“So-“ She started, her curiosity shining bright in her eyes.

“Don’t fucking ask. Just come take this wrapping off for me, would you?”

He interrupted her obvious interest in  _ why _ he was acting as he was, and held his left hand out to her, while he slugged at the shaking water bottle in his right, as best he could without either spilling it, or risking making himself sick by downing it too fast after such a workout.

Arya rolled her eyes and scooted towards him, dragging a short stool from the corner so she could park her tiny ass and do as he asked her to.

“This have to do with Sansa moving in?” She hedged, trying to sound nonchalant.

Sandor eyed her dangerously, but stopped himself from doing or saying anything more.

She’d obviously heard about Sansa moving in with him, likely from her sister herself. But he was curious to know whether his Little Bird had told the rest of the family yet, and what they might have to say about it. - Not that he’d be bloody asking of course! - but he was curious all the same.

And being that the most he’d heard from Sansa since she let him kiss her goodbye the morning before, was a dozen or so texts making excuses as to why she wasn’t staying again last night. Plus chirping away at him about what she could pack already, and what she couldn’t, plus what she’d need to buy too, as if there was nothing fucking wrong, it was pretty obvious, especially with her not wanting to stay again, that things had gone too far when she was in his bed.

He should have fucking known he was going too far! 

She wasn’t even fucking awake and he was groping at her and rubbing on her, like she was some other woman who might welcome a morning tumble after a one nighter, and not his best friend who had some weird hang ups because she’d never had a decent fuck in her life.

Sandor grunted at the feel of an ice pack being slapped over his raw knuckles and glared at the girl who was responsible. 

He hadn’t even noticed her getting up, yet she’d managed to finish unwrapping his hand, clean it up and get the ice pack, all without his notice.

Now she was reaching for his other hand.

“You know ‘The Parentals’ think she’s moving in because you two are secretly fucking?” He coughed in surprise at the cackling bitch before him, and limply let her take his other hand. “ _I_ _know_ you’re not, because there’s no way you would have been in a full black rage out there, if you’d finally gotten _your Birdy_ in your bed… Plus my sister was walking just fine when I saw her last night - so she hasn’t been on the receiving end of a big dick… Though she was oddly happy.-“ She paused and cocked her head in thought. “Anyway! Mother Dearest is preening about the house like she just been told she’s finally getting to plan a wedding or is expecting a grandkid or something! - So, you know… fair warning and all that.”

“What the fucks that supposed to mean? If I’d  _ finally  _ gotten her in my bed?” He grumbled at her.

Truthfully he wasn’t sure that he wasn’t delirious, and imagining half of what the girl said. Because all of it - especially the part about Cat preening, was sheer buggering madness.

Plus his whole upper body was protesting bloody hard at the moment, and he was feeling a bit light headed too, being delirious wouldn’t be a big fucking leap.

Truthfully, the pain he was in only served to piss him off further, because he fucking knew better than to carry on like he had done. Especially without a decent break and fluids at least.

He’d just been too lost in his fucking head to be responsible. - Something that he hadn’t suffered through - to such a degree, since learning to curb and control his temper.

Now he’d be paying for it for days.

“Oh! ‘ _ What the fucks that supposed to mean’  _ he says!” Arya mocked him. “You two are like an old married couple, Sandor. Without the married bit, and so far without the couple bit too… But we all know it’s only a matter of time. Honestly? I’m surprised Mama hasn’t locked the two of you in a room together and sworn off feeding either of you until you promise to get married and give her giant grand babies.”

Sandor scoffed rudely and let his newly released hand drop onto his sleeping cats back, while Arya grabbed the other ice packs she’d found and wrapped and taped them around his shoulders for him, with her nimble little fingers, without him having to ask.

“Your Mother didn’t even like me to begin with. Why-“

“And now she does… You’re a bit like a fungus Big Guy, you grow on people… Starks at least! - Plus she knows  _ you _ are her only hope of getting Sansa all ‘wedded and bedded’ or whatever. And  _ Sansa  _ is her best shot at the grandchildren she craves. -  _ We all know that. _ ” She laughed like a madwoman. “So? How goes it? She’s moving in?”

Sandor eyed the girl warily for a moment, trying to figure out if she was fucking serious, or if she was busting his balls. - Either was possible, and yet she didn’t tend to lie to him, and she’d outgrown the bitchy attitude towards Sansa years ago. Plus for as mean and vicious she could be, she wasn’t interested in being genuinely cruel.

They were friends in a weird sort of pseudo sibling way.

And it was pretty clear by the way her curious big eyes were shining, that she was only asking because she actually bloody cared.

“Aye.” He sighed heavily and rolled his neck, wincing at the pulls and stabs of his overworked muscles. “She’s moving in.”

“Cool. That’s not all of it though, because you wouldn’t be going all  _ Hulk  _ over that either!”

“Fuck sake! We are not  _ together _ , but-“

“AH HUH!” She yelled and jumped and punched the air above her head, before holding her fist out to him for a bump.

Sandor snorted and pointedly looked at his hands wrapped in ice before looking back at her.

“Right.” She huffed sheepishly and dragged her stool around to sit directly in front of him like a fucking teachers pet or some such shit. “But - you said  _ ‘but’.” _

“For fuck sake!” He exploded, earning himself a pissed off yowl from Stranger, a set of claws digging in dangerously close to his balls, and a cackling laugh from the evil little bitch before him.  _ “But fucking nothing!  _ Ask your sister if you want to know what’s going on with her!”

Arya sat back, crossing her toned and tatted little arms over her chest and grinning at him like he’d just given away the game completely.

He wanted desperately to kick the stool out from under her and send her sprawling on her ass, except that such a quick movement with Stranger on his lap would likely fucking hurt him even more than her. And he was in enough pain without his boy attacking him.

“I wasn’t asking what was going on with Sansa, but what’s going on with  _ you!  _ \- I was implying that you letting  _ The Hound _ off his fucking leash out there, might be connected to my sister moving in with you… And now I know that it’s not her moving in, but it’s definitely to do with her. So give it up Big Guy. Tell me how the  _ Little Bird  _ has managed to piss you off!”

Sandor set his jaw and stared across the room, and well away from those creepy probing grey eyes that somehow saw as clearly through him as another set of very different colour.

It wasn’t Sansa that had pissed him off, but himself.

He knew, he  _ had known  _ that she was still processing the  _ how’s  _ of her crazy baby making plans. He knew she had still been processing the idea that maybe they could  _ see where things took them.  _ And more importantly, he had always known that she wasn’t exactly keen on having sex, or anything of the nature. Especially when she fucking felt pressured or blindsided into it in any way.

Yet he had turned her permission for a bloody kiss or two, into permission to fucking come onto her fully, without her even being awake properly to stop him before her body started reacting.

And though her body had reacted, and she hadn’t told him to stop, but physically bloody encouraged him to continue, and had even been the one to start the kissing and near fucking through their clothes, he felt like a buggering cunt.

It didn’t matter that she had asked to have sex with him so she could have his kid. And it didn’t matter that in the heat of the moment, she had seemed as keen to get to the point and actually bloody wanted him  _ for him  _ too.

He’d moved too fast.

All because he’d somehow wound up wrapped around her in their sleep, and had woken up fucking horny as a teenager who’s balls had just dropped, with her bloody spectacular body pressed and rubbing against him, and he was too stinking stupid to slow up and think about how he had gone from seeing her as his best friend to seeing her as…  _ something more _ … in such a short period of time. Or to understand that  _ if  _ she was ever fucking going to do the same thing, it would take her more than a few fucking hours to realise it.

And it was a big fucking  _ if  _ at that! Because for all that they were friends and she wanted his kids, she was a bloody goddess among mere mortals, and he was an ugly old dog who was even less than the least worthy of men.

He still maintained the idea that it would be better if they could spontaneously have sex, because they just  _ wanted to _ the first time. It would take the pressure off of trying to force themselves to fuck in some sort of pre-organised bullshit plan. But that still didn’t mean he should have put the moves on her without knowing for certain - without her  _ telling him,  _ that she was ready, willing, and bloody wanting too.

“Fine. Don’t tell me. I gotta get back out there anyway.  _ Some  _ of us have actual work to do around here.” Arya jumped up, startling him out of his musing. “Take that ice off in another five, hit the showers and then I’ll come put it back on for you for another twenty-“

“I know how to fucking ice myself girl.” He huffed and lazed back in the seat in a bid to get comfortable. “But for your bloody attitude, and for fucking around on the ropes out there, you can check the roster for this afternoon and divvy up my floor time with whoever’s bloody out there.”

“Fine. But you’re paying me double for the day for taking care of that  _ and you.” _ Sandor snorted rudely at her demands and closed his eyes, not bothering to correct her very wrong thoughts. “Hey Sandor?”

“What?” He groaned. 

“Whatever it is, you should just talk to her… It’s not like you two to fight, or get frustrated or angry over stuff going on between you or whatever… And… If it’s what  _ I think _ it might be? She love _ -loves  _ you too, even if she hasn’t figured it out like I think you might have.”

He grunted in acknowledgement, waving her off with a pathetically weak wiggle of his fingers. He held his tongue otherwise, the girl was too smart for her own good, and she didn’t bloody need him telling her she was.

Sandor listened to Arya stepping out of his office, muttering to herself.

She was right about a few things, including his need to get up and shower and then reapply his ice packs. But like her advice about her sister could wait until the next day, which happened to be Saturday, which was fucking moving day. - Her advice about the shower could wait until he’d rested his eyes a bit.

He’d tossed and turned all night in a lonely bed that smelled like his Birdy, so he had been as tired as he was fucking confused and pissed at himself, even before he smashed himself as hard as he did.

He could just hope that Arya would mind her own fucking business for the rest of the day, and leave him to his misery.

He didn’t much like his chances though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo... Grumpy Sandor is the one who got stuck in his head!
> 
> And he’s not fooling Arya.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa.

_You wouldn’t happen to know what this dickheads problem is, would you?_

The text her sister had sent her had included a video of Sandor pounding on one of the punching bags in the gym in a way that made obvious that he was in a full black out rage.

And it had concerned her enough to reorganise her day so that she could skip out at lunch and work remotely for the rest of the day - or even over the weekend, if she needed to.

She had no idea what could have caused him to go into such a dark mood.

Usually when he was on the brink of losing his temper to that sort of degree he either worked out _before_ it took hold of him, or he sought her out to either talk or at least distract himself for a while until he could think more clearly.

Plus he had been in a really good mood when she had left his place the morning before, and even though he pretended to be really put out about her not staying at his place again that next night, he had been in good humour enough to try to sweet talk and tease her into giving in. But had ultimately accepted her reasons for not doing so.

Of course, his _sweet talking and teasing_ in such a way, much like the way they had flirted and played about during their _interlude_ the morning before, was entirely new and very strange. - But it was a nice new and strange, unlike his lapse into old, now _very_ out of character habits.

She was worried about him.

She was worried over what could have caused him to be so upset.

And a not so small part of her was worried that it was maybe connected to her and the rapid fire changes to their relationship.

More than anything, she didn’t want him to be feeling trapped or tied down by her or by the things she had asked of him. Or even by the idea that he _had to_ take their relationship somewhere that he didn’t want it to go, because of the things she had asked of him.

But she wouldn’t know until she could talk to him. She just hoped that he’d want to talk to her about it when she saw him - which was another change to their dynamic, and an extremely uncomfortable one too. - Not feeling completely confident that he would want to talk to her.

  
  
  


It took her a couple of hours to get herself into a position where she could head out of the office for the day, so she was grateful that Arya had been there to pull him out of his violence at least.

She had even been good enough to send Sansa another text, about an hour after the first, which showed an adorable picture of her best friends massive form, passed out with Stranger on his lap, in Strangers chair in his office. 

The ice packs he had strapped to him took away a bit of the cuteness of it, but only because she knew that their presence meant he was likely in some fairly significant pain. Especially for him to have fallen asleep with them on.

Sansa found him still in the exact same position when she finally made her way there just on lunchtime. The only difference being that Stranger had relocated to his desk to nap. - Likely because the ice packs that she could clearly see had melted and left wet patches on Sandors shirt, and the armchair had probably gotten his fur wet also.

Sandor looked exhausted.

And her need to take care of him was overwhelming every other possible desire.

She crossed the office quietly and lowered her handbag onto the seat behind his desk out of the way, and gave Stranger a quick ear scratch in greeting, before slipping out of her high heels and approaching her sleeping bear, to remove his now useless cold packs. She hoped to even be able to sneak into his lap before he came fully awake.

Her heart was pounding in anticipation, though her fingers worked swiftly and gently enough that he did no more than huff and grunt in his deep sleep, while she sorted the ice packs out.

She was far from afraid, either of Sandor, or his reaction to her touching him while he slept. For all the evidence of the contrary in his past, and even from that very day, Sandor wasn’t a violent man without serious provocation, at least not anymore. And he was not and never had been a violent man where she was concerned, at all.

But she was nervous to wake him before she was done, mainly because she did genuinely fear that his earlier mood and obvious exhaustion was somehow her fault. And she kind of hoped that if she was already in his arms, he’d be less inclined to reject her fussing.

On top of that though, she was oddly aroused by the sight of his huge arms and sides being so openly on display with his loose workout tank. Even the little water coloured bird tattoo on his ribs was on full display, and he usually kept it covered around everyone but her. 

Sansa couldn’t help but find herself mesmerised by how relaxed his features were either.

In the same ways she had been aware of him and attracted to him the morning before, she was aware of him, and attracted to him, in that moment.

  
  


Sandor half snuffled and shifted, groaning in pain as she pulled the last ice pack off of him and sat it aside, before he settled again. 

She knew that he had to be completely wiped out to sleep so heavily at all, let alone while he was supposed to be working. Especially considering the gym wasn’t exactly the quietest place. Though Sandors office was thankfully, far enough back down the hall to muffle most of the noise, so that helped she supposed.

The only time she had ever seen him sleep so heavily was when he used to drink heavily, which he didn’t do any more.

Sansa wiggled herself around and climbed over him as best she could without hurting him, and snuggled herself onto his lap. Sitting sideways over his thighs and leaning her weight into his chest rather than his obviously sore arms, and nosing at his bearded jaw like a needy cat to wake him.

“Sandor?” She whispered softly and even tempted fate a little bit, to press a tiny kiss to the underside of his jaw.

He hummed softly and hissed as he lifted his arms around her clumsily.

“Thought you weren’t coming over?”

Sansa couldn’t help the breathy giggle that fell out over his grumpy, sleep slackened mumble. 

It was obvious that he assumed he was at home in bed, and she had snuck in with him.

And it was obvious by the tingling building in her belly, that the morning before hadn’t been a freak moment, but rather a bit more of a brand new starting point for a new direction in their friendship.

“Don’t freak out, but we are at the gym. Not in bed.” She giggled again at his snort of disbelief and pressed her forehead into his cheekbone affectionately. Wanting desperately to keep the sweet moment going as long as it would… For reasons that she did _not_ want to think too hard on, just yet. “Arya texted me because you were pretty angry, and then again because you were so exhausted you passed out in your office.”

“Sure. Whatever.” He scoffed and snuggled his face into her hair, humming happily and even pressing a clumsy kiss there too. Making her heart explode inside her at such a sweet gesture. He was obviously not awake, but that only made the moment even more enlightening and meaningful. “Missed you Birdy. My bed smells like you. Wanted you with me.”

Sansa froze for a moment, her heart slamming in her chest, and then she pulled back enough to look up at him in a bid to get some semblance of an idea of where his sleepy words and thoughts were at.

He was cute, even more so with the half scowling pout he was giving for her having moved away from him a bit. But now she needed actual answers, before she jumped to conclusions on her own, like her mind was encouraging her to do.

“Sandor. Wake up please.” She cupped his jaw and scratched at his beard to encourage him. “Come on. I need you to tell me why you got so angry today.”

“Huh?” 

She gave a small smile at how adorable he was in his sleepy confused blinking, it didn’t take away from the panic and upset building inside of her like she wanted it to.

“Birdy? - We really are at the fucking gym?” He groaned and looked about the room uncomfortably before blinking back at her and finally closing his eyes again in defeat. “Explains my fucking arms and shoulders and back… And the headache too. Fucking over did it and passed out, didn’t I?”

“I imagine it does and apparently you did.” She cleared her throat and smiled uncomfortably as he blinked at her again, and rubbed his hands over her where they rested on her side and her thigh. “Now, I need to know if you got angry like you did, because I didn’t come back to your place last night.” She licked her lips nervously as his face settled into that blank stare he had perfected years ago, to hide his thoughts. “You thought we were in your bed… Told me you missed me and wanted me there… Are you angry at me? Because I didn’t come over last night, or because we didn’t finis-“

“I’m angry at _myself.”_ He spat out roughly, and took his hands off of her, cursing and grunting as he flexed his wrists. “I pushed you too fast, was thinking with my cock-“

_“Oh! Ho!_ Look who’s overthinking now!” She snarked, rolling her eyes and sitting up enough to grip his stupid, adorable, handsome, ridiculous face with a tight grip of her hands on his jaw. “Sandor? Give me some credit. For crying out loud, if I hadn’t wanted yesterday morning to happen, all I had to do was take you up on any or all of the numerous offers you made, to stop.”

Sansa glared down at him haughtily, daring him to continue on in such a silly direction. He pulled back and frowned, clearly thinking her outburst over before braving an attempt to speak again.

“Aye, you could have.” He conceded. His words falling out on an extremely weary and self deprecating huff. He tentatively let his hands come back to rest on her thigh and hip respectively. “But I didn’t give you much of a chance to think before I wound you up - you were sleeping.”

“And I almost didn’t give you a chance to think either, because I didn’t know if you were awake until after I said your name… I was already reacting and wanting, while hoping that you _were_ awake and that you knew it was me you were touching.” She flushed as red as her hair and looked away from his startled eyes, focusing instead on his bearded chin. “Plus I was _wanting_ all day, and had to… _deal with myself_ as soon as I got home.” She cleared her throat and ignored his huff of obviously shocked but pleased laughter. “I’m sorry that I made you think otherwise, but I genuinely went home to pack and to give us both a bit of room to process what happened, that’s all.”

“My fucking actions and my temper are mine Birdy.” He grunted and shot her an oddly contrite and embarrassed look. “Not your fault I pulled _‘a Sansa’_ and got all fucking paranoid.”

“Excuse you!” She shrieked in outright offence over his terminology, making him laugh sleepily.

“We are fucking this all up you know?” He stated quietly. “I’ve said it over and over, that we should just play it by ear basically… And still, I’m apparently as bad as you for getting in my head. - Your bitch sister said it earlier, woke me up quick smart she did… You and me Sansa? We don’t fight or get worked up about what’s happening between us. We’ve been friends for so long that we don’t need to get worked up about you and me. But shits changing and we don’t know what the fuck is going on or what each other is thinking, and it’s fucking infuriating.”

Sansa swallowed hard and shrugged, letting her hands relax against his jaw and slip to his collarbones instead. 

Her heart was breaking inside of her for what she had done to them.

Never in her wildest imaginings, did she foresee them having to deal with so much uncertainty between them. - Sure, she knew it would change some things, and she anticipated a certain amount of weirdness - at least to begin with. But she didn’t think she’d put so much pressure on Sandor that he’d react as he had. Or that she’d find herself questioning herself so much either.

“I’m sorry I asked, we don’t have to, I can sort something else out… I’m sorry that-“

“Not what I meant, crazy bird. I’ve come around to the idea of us having kids… I accepted that without blinking right at the fucking beginning - just about. I mean to keep accepting it unless you change your mind.” He patted her backside to emphasise his words. “Just meant that this, getting to that point-in between, _not us,_ fucking lack of communication shit, has got to stop. For _both_ of us. _We_ are making it weirder and more complicated than it needs to be, because we are acting like fucking idiots who don’t know each other.”

Sansa smiled shyly and nodded in understanding.

She still wasn’t terribly sure where they stood, but at least he understood that she had been right there with him in that haze of sexual desires the morning before. So she at least had hope that he understood that she wanted him in that same way too, until she was pregnant at least. - Or for however long he wanted her that way, if he wanted her for more than that too.

Even if the sex itself ended up disappointing her, which she wasn’t totally sure it would given how _excited_ she had gotten under his _attentions_ the morning before. She really would be happy with being able to make Sandor feel sexy, and good about himself. And she wanted him to help her feel sexy and good about herself too. And that was enough.

“So, um.” She blushed and met his curious eyes. “So that there’s no misunderstanding, can you tell me what you _want_ right now, in this very moment?”

“Too right I can!” He huffed and grinned at her. “First I want a kiss.” He squeezed her hips playfully. “Then I want you to get Strangers leash and clip it on him, and then gather our bags while I tell your evil sister that if she wants the double pay she seems to think I’m giving her for today, she’s locking up for me and bringing your car to my place when she’s done too.” Sansa cocked a brow in amusement as he chuckled. “Then I want you to take me home, help my useless ass into a bath full of fucking muscle soak. - Maybe I will want a massage after that too? If you’re willing to put your hands on me and _maybe_ risk things escalating? - Though I won’t bloody ask you outright for that, I’d be pretty bloody stoked for a _happy ending_ there too, if you’re keen to offer one.” He smirked at her snorting laugh. “And I want a shit tonne of ibuprofen and then I want a nap… _With my Birdy.”_

Sansa laughed at his laundry list of requests, and blushed as she leaned over him slowly, lining her lips up with his. Oddly pleased that he would actually tell her so openly after the morning and likely shitty night, he had had, that he wanted her _intimate attentions._

It certainly helped her to understand where things were between them.

“I think we can do all that.”

“You fucking serious?” He sputtered, making her laugh softly against his lips.

“I’m serious.” 

She closed the gap and pressed her lips softly over his, not deepening it at all, not even when his hands tightened on her for a split second before the stiffness in his fists became too much and he had to let go. She simply lingered and savoured the curious moment of sweetness between them, letting the soft contact drag and repeat with fresh pushes over and over, while holding his eye.

“It’ll be good practice… Bathing a cranky, sulky Clegane, and making him feel better because he’s sore or sick… Cuddling a cranky Clegane so he will nap.” She whispered cheekily against his lips as she pulled back.

“Woman! Did you just compare me to a kid?” He growled in faux menace.

She hummed in affirmation and then squealed when he pushed forward and kissed her hard and fast. 

“That’s fucking it Birdy! Get off me, and take me home so I can prove why you can’t bloody compare me to our future kids.”

“Sorry _Rocky_ , you don’t have the stren-“

“Finish that sentence, I fucking dare you!”

Sansa gave in and laughed uproariously at her grumpy shit of a best friend not being able to handle having his strength questioned. 

She was utterly delighted by their exchange and relieved by Sandors improved disposition and that they’d talked at least a bit, and found their way back to themselves as much as they could, given the notable changes between them, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Sandor is freaking out while Sansa is in her happy little bubble thinking everything is fine. 
> 
> But Taadaa! Quick resolution because this isn’t meant to be super angsty!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor... And a bath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo... This was not the direction I was supposed to be going with this next chapter, and it was not even the WIP I was actually going to work on next... 
> 
> But here we are.
> 
> Enjoy lol.

Sandor wasn’t as sore as he should have been.

He deserved to be a bloody lot sight worse than he was, after his apparently unnecessary carry on.

But once he was up and moving about again, and had downed some more water, ibuprofen, and some electrolyte infused post training drinks, he felt much better.

He was a bleeding idiot for having pushed his limits so hard without warming up and down properly and he was bloody paying for it with the lingering stiffness of his muscles and the swelling and aching of his fists. But all in all he couldn’t complain about his physical state considering how much worse he could have been.

He felt like a buggering fool for having gotten himself so worked up over shit that wasn’t even an issue, but he was more than willing to let it slide, or at least keep it to himself, because of Sansa’s reaction to it.

His Birdy had done as he had jokingly suggested.

Not only did she deliver on the kiss he asked for, but she had sorted his training bag and his cat while he spoke to the little one about taking over for the day for him, and then she had driven him home and actually bloody run him a tub.

Plus she had made clear that she thought he was overreacting and that she had actually fucking wanted him the same way he had wanted her, when they were getting busy together.

Sandor grinned to himself over the insane turn of events and let his thick fingers drag over the steaming water he was languishing in, in his oversized bathtub.

He had been tempted to tease her into getting in with him. Except that he thought it might be wiser to follow his own advice and avoid moving  _ too fast,  _ after his fuck up in understanding where they stood, earlier in the day.

So instead he was lazed back like a fucking king in his bath, listening to his best friend turned  _ lover,  _ while she flitted about in the bedroom that she always claimed as hers in his house, down the hall.

Unbelievable as it fucking was that he could call her that now, he gave up on the idea of questioning it or himself after the way she had snarled at him for thinking he did something she didn’t bloody want, and then with how she kissed him in his office too.

For reasons he couldn’t fucking fathom, his beautiful best friend wanted his kid in her belly, and from what he could tell from her behaviour and her excessive blushing, the woman  _ wanted him, for him,  _ now too.

Though maybe her sister was right, and she didn’t realise it like he did, either. - Only time would tell him that.

He wouldn’t go so far as to say that they were  _ together,  _ in such a sense, he didn’t think they needed to fucking label anything, even if they were. But by his measure, they had come to a bit more of an understanding over how they were going to go forward.

And that understanding had some pretty bloody exciting and interesting advantages.

“Hey Birdy?” He called out, and grinned up at the ceiling he’d been staring at, smug as all get out, while he waited for her to answer him.

She popped up in the bathroom doorway and smiled in question, nonchalantly leaning her slight weight into the door frame while she waited to see what he wanted.

“Wanna wash my back.” He tipped his head and shot her a cocky wink.

Sansa laughed darkly and purposely let her eyes wander, making him snort a laugh at her for such a fucking bold move.

She couldn’t see shit from the doorway anyway, but it pleased him quite a bit, and amused him no end to have her eye him like that.

“Are you asking because your arms are too sore to reach around, or because you are hoping for that  _ happy ending  _ you were talking about?” The cheeky shit teased back.

Sandor barked out a surprised laugh and curled a finger at her in blatant invitation. 

“Come here and let’s find out, woman.”

“Firstly, stop calling me that. And secondly, absolutely not. You’ll get me all wet!”

“That’s kind of the fucking idea, aye.” He howled with laughter, while she shrieked in embarrassment as it dawned on her what she fucking said. “Get you all wet and warm, and have you slipping and sliding around on top of me… Sounds like a bloody good time to me.”

She looked fucking cute with the scrunched up nose and the blush that pinked up her cheeks. - He was hardly a stinking poet, or a romantic natured man at fucking all, but even he could maybe think up a few flowery words to describe how pretty her stupidly innocent reaction made her.

“I’m kidding Birdy.” He winked at her again and groaned as he stretched out and made himself comfortable again. “I might steal a kiss if you’re giving them out, and you might cop an eye full because I’m buck assed naked in here and there’s no way to fucking hide that fact. But I won’t be a dick about it. I actually could use the help.”

He waited silently, not bothering to hide his grin at all, as she huffed a laugh and stepped into the bathroom fully.

His Birdy was completely unable to stop herself from helping someone when she thought they needed it - which was a fucking good quality to have, he supposed. One he could admire her for, though he definitely wasn’t that way inclined himself - except towards her and her family as a bloody extension of her. But even more so, Sansa couldn’t help herself but to coddle and fuss over him.

Plus she couldn’t not step up if she was challenged.

He had just laid out a challenge.

And much as it bugged him most of the time, that she felt the need to smother him with her excessive care, sometimes in bloody demeaning ways, that made him feel like a useless fucking kid. - In this particular instance though, he was going to take advantage of it, and thoroughly enjoy her fussing.

He stared up at her in surprise, as she parked her sexy little ass on the overhang of the tub, directly behind his head, and slipped her smooth, bare legs down behind his shoulders until they were submerged in his tub water, and wrapped snug around his sides.

She had nothing but her fucking panties on her bottom half, somehow managing to strip her pencil skirt off without his notice, and now her barely covered cunt was inches from the back of his head.

“You know? This actually is much more efficient. I can give you that massage you wanted while you bathe. Then once I’ve got my  _ grumpy boy _ napping, I can knock over the bit of work I have left to do, and then finish up making space for where I’m going to put my things when we get them tomorrow.” She chirped.

Sandor groaned as her long fingers worked the wash rag and soap over the tops of his shoulders and down his arms.

He couldn’t fucking help himself. It felt bloody good.

The cheeky bitch knew exactly what she was doing! 

Acting all innocent and chattering away at him, while bending her sexy body over his shoulders and head to grope at him under the guise of washing him as he’d asked. And there was not very damned much he could fucking do, because he’d asked for it when he threw down that damned challenge.

“I said I was napping  _ with you,  _ Birdy.” He grumbled and grunted as her thumb dragged into his bicep, finding numerous tender spots.

“I know. I’ll lay down with you until you are asleep. But I don’t need to nap because I did not push my body to its limits, Big Guy. So I’ll snuggle with you until you’re asleep, and once you are down, I’ll get up and do stuff.” She explained like he was an idiot.

Sandor snorted and turned his head enough to press his face into her creamy thigh, and took a big bite of the soft skin and then soothed it with a lazy stroke of his tongue.

The squeak and throaty groan she couldn’t stop from coming out, made him smirk.

It made something else react rather bloody obviously too.

“Keep going with your bloody teasing Sansa, and we will be seeing about  _ pushing your body to its limits,  _ soon enough.” He warned.

He could fucking smell the flash of arousal his antics had caused.

She was trying to hide just how much the whole thing was affecting her. She was forcing herself to breathe slowly instead of panting like he suspected she needed to. And she was refusing to give into the desire to squirm by holding herself a little more rigidly too.

But she could do nothing to hide the moisture gathering in her cunt. And his head was way too close to it, to have missed the scent.

She cleared her throat and leaned over him enough so that her bright red face was almost level with his, and she smirked at him, while dragging the soapy cloth over his chest lazily.

It ticked more than anything, but fucked if he wanted her to stop now she’d started.

“You want your  _ happy ending _ Sandor?” She whispered, and eyed his hard cock through the water. “Go ahead. - Your hands are free, but I’m afraid mine are rather busy right now.”

“Can reach my bloody chest myself too, you damn tease. But by all means, don’t let me stop you, I’m more than happy to have your soft hands tickling and groping at me.” He chuckled and slipped his hand under the water to grip himself with his own meaty fist, just to see how she’d react. “If you want to take those wet panties off I can distract you from your embarrassment about watching me fuck my own hand, and take care of that twitching little cunt for you, at the same time.”

“How do you suppose you will pull that off hmm? With me sitting here and your arms being too sore to reach back, not to mention your sore and swollen hands and fingers.”

Sandor barked a laugh at her smug reply and turned again to lay hungry, open mouth kisses and bites to her soft thigh again. This time a little higher up and closer to her fucking delicious smelling juncture.

“Don’t need my fucking hands girl.” He mumbled into her skin.

_ “Sandor! Fuck.”  _ She huffed and whined, and then she squirmed out of his reach on a surprised giggle, making him laugh all the more. 

“That’s enough out of you  _ mister! _ ” She whacked his chest with a slapping, wet rag and went back to actually washing and rubbing his shoulders. “Move forward so I can focus on  _ cleaning  _ you.”

Sandor didn’t bother with actually rubbing one out, no matter how tempting it was. Instead he took up the other washcloth that was within his reach, soaped it up and focused on giving what he could reach of himself, a thorough clean too, while giving her the room she asked for, to wash his back.

Not because he wasn’t interested in getting off, because he really fucking was. But because Sansa was pretty clearly embarrassed by their sexy as fuck exchange and needed a few minutes to process and think on it all.

He did feel a bit like a bastard for acting like that, because he had thought to behave and  _ not push her too fast.  _ And then he’d thrown that idea on the shit pile almost immediately, again… But once again she started it, and he lost fucking control over his baser instincts for a few moments.

Plus she wasn’t rushing away either. She was just thinking while continuing on her task of washing his body where he couldn’t comfortably reach. So it can’t have worried her too much.

“Have you done that a lot?” She interrupted his thoughts, with a bloody strangely nervous question.

“Done what?” He paused his scrubbing and looked over his shoulder at her.

Sansa licked her lips - an obvious tell that she was uncomfortable, or nervous or shy about something.

_ “That.  _ \- What you said… Implied, that you’d do to me… With your  _ mouth.  _ Have you done it a lot?” 

She met his eyes and bit her lip like an innocent little lamb. And fuck he wished she’d realise how much it made him want to do it for her.

He grunted at his own stupid fucking green boy thoughts, and at the idea that she already had his balls in her damned hand, despite him not even knowing he wanted her like that until very fucking recently.

“A bit, aye. Not something I do with every woman. - Might make me a prick, but some you don’t know how many fucking dicks have been in there, or how recently. I’ll definitely fucking go for it if they’ve cleaned themselves up here after I’ve had them, because I  _ know _ they are clean of another bloke. And I’ll repay the favour sometimes without the need for a wash, if they’ve sucked my dick too.” He shrugged. “Fairs fair after all. But to give you the fucking truth of it, I do it when I feel like it, and the chick wants it. And I don’t do it if I don’t feel like it, and she’s not asking for it.”

The mix of horror, indignation and curiosity on her face was fucking hilarious. 

The curiosity had his interest peaked. 

But he wasn’t about to apologise for the insult she obviously took on behalf of the women he’d fucked. Maybe he could have worded it better so it didn’t sound so vulgar and fucking judgemental of him, but he wasn’t sorry for having standards and limits in the bedroom. And he wouldn’t pretend he was.

“You, I’d eat all fucking day and night if you wanted me to, Birdy. - Just so we are very fucking clear? I am pretty damned keen to do just that. Reckon I could come doing it too, without even touching my dick. - Remember that, if ever, or whenever you are ready for us to try out such things.”

He left her sputtering and blinking wildly, with that, and turned back to keep washing himself. Partly so she could have her moment to think, and partly so she couldn’t see the amusement he was dealing with, over the look on her pretty head.

“But you don’t know-“ he looked back over his shoulder as she stopped washing him completely and sat staring at him, clearly needing clarification or something. “I might have too much hair! Or I might not be nice to look at! Or-“

Sandor scoffed and turned himself enough to hook his arms over the edge of the bath, and lay them along her thighs to grab her hips and hopefully shut her up too.

“Not my cunt! I don’t have one, so I don’t get a say on how much fucking hair a woman has over hers, for one fucking thing! For another, I live with a face fucking full of hair, so how the fuck is it any different than expecting someone to kiss me?” He cocked an arrogant brow and let the pad of his thumb trail down the seam of her groin, over the lip of her plain white cotton underpants. “Birdy?” She blinked at him with wide, but oddly shy eyes. “None of those fucking pricks ever went down on you did they? - I’m guessing they fucking bitched and said it was gross or they’d think about it if you shaved all your hair off, or some other shit like that. - Am I right?”

He cursed roundly as she swallowed hard and nodded before looking down at the hands now twirling together and hiding her panties from his line of sight.

“Bet they all wanted their dick sucked though didn’t they? Fucking scumbags motherfuckers!” He handed her the wash rag again. “Come on! Help me finish up, then we are going to have a lay down. No pressure about fucking around, don’t worry. - Just want to kiss you for a bit and show you that you’re fucking beautiful and bloody sexy as all Hells too, and that those shitting asshole, bastards don’t know shit about how to look after their woman.”

Sandor huffed and flexed his hands under the water, and rolled his shoulders, partly to test how sore he truly was, and partly to relieve the tension the damned conversation they’d just had, left thrumming through him.

It turned so fucking fast he nearly scored whiplash to go with his tired muscles and sore joints. One minute they are fucking flirting and screwing around and having fun, and the next he’s pissed off and she’s feeling insecure. And it fucking sucked!

He needed to bring it back around again, before she was silly enough to think he thought or believed the same shit those cunting cunt face pricks did.

“Would that I could track every last one of the fuckers down, Birdy! Save me having to replace another bag at the gym, because I could beat on them instead.” He growled. “You probably should fucking tell me anything else they did that I don’t already know, and that’s going to piss me off now. Take advantage of the fact that I’m more concerned about making you feel better and otherwise too fucking sore to search them out and go give them a hard fucking lesson… Might be that you’ll save their bloody lives as well as their hides, if you do.”

He grunted in surprise at the feel of her damned near falling over the back of his shoulders, and wrapping tight little arms around his neck, and resting her face in his wet hair.

“Sansa? You might be a Little Bird, girl, but that don’t mean you can perch on my shoulders like a fucking parrot… If you want in my bath, I’m definitely alright with it, but you can climb ‘round the front instead.” He tipped his head in a bid to look at her, but found her giggling face slipping down next to his ear instead, while she attempted to strangle the life out of him.

“No, we are going to lay down now that you are clean… I just wanted to hug you, because you are the best.” She chirped happily and kissed his jaw.

Sandor patted her arms roughly with a heavy hand, and grunted in understanding. 

“Aye. So you tell me all the buggering time.” He chuckled as she hummed in agreement. 

“Hey Birdy?”

“Hey Sandy?”

“Get the fuck off me so I can get up.” He let out a rough laugh at her amused snort. “And pass me that towel too if you can. Otherwise I’m standing up, and you are getting an even better view than you have right now, of my still mostly erect dick, while I get it myself.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew... So maybe I should advise for anyone who hasn’t read any of my other works - I don’t hold back with the smut... Or any subject that might be taboo or uncomfortable for that matter.
> 
> Alright, warnings done lol. Let me know what you think!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa

Sandor fell asleep almost immediately after Sansa finished rubbing the liniment oil into his arms, shoulders, chest and back. And much to her disappointment, he didn’t wake again until she was almost done cooking them dinner.

She’d gotten to enjoy a bit of kissing and snuggling, as he had said they would be doing once they laid down. 

But the moment had been lost when he grunted in pain trying to twist himself to lean over her, and she had ordered him to lay back and let her actually follow through with the massage he had asked for earlier in the day.

When she had returned from washing her hands, he had been snoring quietly, so the _excitement_ that had built up thanks to their affections as well as having her hands working over his impressive muscles, had to be toned down until later.

Much as her restless body didn’t agree, it had actually been rather fortuitous, because it meant she could focus on moving those last few things Sandor had stored in the closet of her bedroom and out into the rarely used third bedroom, out of the way for the time being.

It also meant she wasn’t half dressed and obviously bed rumpled when her sister arrived to drop her car off to her, as she’d also found a set of her comfy clothes stashed away in her room from a previous sleepover, to put on.

She didn’t know for certain if he was alright with her staying the night, but she had fairly well decided after the miscommunication from the last time, and Sandors morning activities, that it was safer to assume he wanted her to do so, than to assume he didn’t.

He had never cared before either, so she assumed he wouldn’t care now either. He’d been right about her reasons for going home being unnecessary anyway. She could finish up her packing over the weekend, and move it as she did so.

Plus, she had promised a little more than _just_ a massage, though she knew he wasn’t actually serious about that part, she had been determined to deliver on it, except he had fallen asleep before she got to it.

And as strange as it was for her, she had been actually looking forward to attempting something far more _intimate_ than they’d already shared, since he asked her to wash his back, and she was exposed to _his_ interest, and the sheer magnificence of Sandors stark naked body.

She had always known that he was an incredibly well put together man. 

Even before coming to appreciate Sandor as her truest and most genuine friend. And before she came to see that his _not classically handsome_ features were actually quite handsome to her mind, she had known his body was quite impressive.

For years she had been visually exposed to varying parts of him, and for years she had become accustomed to the feel of his body close to hers also, all in a platonic way.

But her previous awareness of his physical attributes had not at all prepared her for the reaction created in her, by the combination of her realising she was actually attracted to him, and her subsequent exposure to _all of him._

Sansa had come to the conclusion, while Sandor napped, that it was time to stop thinking and start doing.

She wanted him to father her children.

And in recent days she had come to understand that she wanted him in a physical sense too.

He was right in that it would make things easier and far less awkward, if the first time they were together came about spontaneously and naturally, rather than being planned out, too. Never mind that she was presently in the process of somewhat _planning it out._

Three times already, further intimacies had been interrupted. Once they had been interrupted by a grumpy cat wanting his breakfast, and once she had slowed them down because she grew nervous over his interest in something she had always thought men hated doing. And a final time they were interrupted thanks to Sandor being too physically sore to continue.

She didn’t want anything interrupting them on their next attempt.

Sansa had never taken control and taken the lead before, but she was confident enough to at least try, because it was with Sandor, and because he was presently too sore to really be the one leading them himself. At the very least, she wanted to be the one to make it clear where and how far she wanted them to go.

“Awful quiet over there Birdy.”

Sandors gravelled voice startled her out of her thoughts, bringing her back to the living room where they were seated either end of the sofa, supposedly working on their individual laptops, to knock over the work they had both stepped out on earlier in the day, after having finished up the dinner she had cooked for them.

Or that was what she was supposed to be doing, while Sandor had figured he’d save himself a few hours at the gym in the morning by doing his paperwork out of the way while she did so.

Except that she’d been away with her fantasies for God knows how long.

“Apparently!” She flushed red as her hair thanks to the clear amusement in his lovely grey eyes. “You scared the crap out of me just now!”

“I noticed.” He chuckled quietly and followed her lead in saving his work and closing out of his laptop, then setting it down on the coffee table alongside hers. “What’s going on in that head girl?” He groaned and stretched as he righted himself, his heavily muscled chest bulging and quivering and mesmerising her momentarily, as he did.

Sansa rolled her eyes at him having called her that again, and turned to face him more fully, coming to rest her back entirely against the arm of the sofa, and stretching her feet out into his lap without thought.

“Just thinking.” She excused. “Do you want me to stay, or do you want your last night as a loner in this big house, _alone?”_

“Since fucking when do you ask permission?”

Sansa shrugged nonchalantly at him in answer, reading his amusement over her actually asking him that, all over his face.

“Give it up, Little Bird! What’s got you daydreaming instead of getting your work done?” He nodded to her laptop and cocked a demanding brow.

Sansa wiggled her toes and half kicked at him in protest while narrowing her eyes in warning as he ran a lazy finger up the bottom of her foot over and over.

The giant shit knew she had ticklish feet. That was the point, he was warning her that he’d tickle it out of her if he had to.

“I was thinking that I hadn’t fulfilled all of the promises on your list yet. If you must know. Now stop that!” She kicked his hand away and burrowed her feet under his thigh as much as she could.

Sandor paused and blinked at her slowly, obviously trying to work out what she had yet to deliver on and coming up blank.

“I got my kiss, you dealt with Stranger and our stuff and brought me home.” He ticked off his mental list. “Had a bloody fun bath… Got a massage and a nap - you didn’t stay and sleep with me though?” He grinned wickedly, thinking he’d found the answer, making her giggle. “You want to sleep in my bed again, that it? By all fucking means, have at it.” 

Sansa hummed in amusement at his smug look and pulled her legs back so she could swing around and crawl her way closer to him, and into his lap fully.

Sandors brows shot up in surprise, but his grin widened to an almost lecherous degree, as his hands looped around her hips to find purchase on her bottom, and give a good squeeze, while she settled with her thighs either side of his hips.

“I actually meant that you didn’t get your _happy ending…_ yet.” She leaned in close and whispered, running her hands lazily over his shirtless form.

Sandor froze for a single heartbeat, and then patted her ass.

“Get up.” 

He all but pushed her off and then took her hand, dragging her behind him as he made his way immediately towards his bedroom. 

“Gee that’s nice! I offer you… _certain things…_ And you shove me away and manhandle me around your house! You could have just said _‘not tonight’.”_ She teased and laughed and all but skipped along behind him.

“Fuck sake Birdy! Quit your bullshit chirping! If I could have managed it, I’d have thrown you over my shoulder and carried you in here! _‘Not tonight’_ \- my fucking ass, girl! We are getting naked, getting in my bed and then hopefully I’ll be getting _into you too,_ in that order!”

“Needy much?” She laughed, and then shrieked and laughed again as he turned her around and shoved her over onto his bed playfully, after having cleared the doorway and kicked the door closed to keep Stranger out. He leaned over her enough so that she couldn’t sit up fully again.

“Keep it up and I’ll make you bloody sing over and over before I deliver on the baby making goods, _my Little Bird_ .” He chuckled and nosed at her jaw, nipping lightly at her pulse point as he made his way closer to her ear, making her shiver uncontrollably. “This isn’t going to be a fucking _walk through the mud in socks,_ Sansa. In fact you might not be fucking walking at all by the time I’m done.”

“See?” She panted breathlessly and tipped her head to give him access as his nipping turned to licking and sucking. “You keep making that promise… I’ve yet to see a delivery Sandor.”

“Fucking cheeky thing, you are.” 

He chuckled huskily and threaded his hands through her hair and pulled her face around to his. He met her eyes briefly, enough to ascertain permission, and then his hungry mouth was devouring hers, licking and sucking and positively feasting.

And she was lost.

To his hunger and hers. 

On a sea of raging desperation, and overwhelming sensation.

She pulled at him in a bid to get him to lay on his back, only to have him pulled away slightly, and run his huge, swollen, calloused hands up her sides, dragging her shirt up and away from her body as he did.

Thankfully he wasn’t wearing a shirt at all, so their feasting on each other’s mouths and necks was only interrupted enough to remove hers.

“Pants Sansa. Take them off before I fucking tear them off.” He growled against her chin, sending shivers racing from the tips of her hair to the tips of her toes. “Let me fucking show you how a man makes his woman ache for him to fill her up. I’m going to eat that pretty little cunt of yours until I’ve got come dripping from my chin. And I’m going to enjoy every fucking second of it. Every bloody quiver and shudder and cry that you let out… I’m going to make my Birdy sing for me.”

_“Your woman huh?”_

She groaned and put her hands to work following his orders, and wiggling free of her shorts and underwear too, as he turned his attention south and mouthed at her lace covered breasts like a man starved.

“Not the bloody time. Focus. No fucking chirping.” 

He bit her nipple through her bra to make his point, and to make her squeak and whine and twitch between her legs too.

“You have a filthy mouth when you’re worked up.” She panted.

“I always have a filthy fucking mouth. But you’ll be grateful for my _filthy mouth_ soon enough. That's for damned sure.” He chuckled softly and pushed her until she was laying down fully. 

“You good?” He asked seriously as he leaned over to actually meet her eyes.

“Yes.” She breathed slowly and nodded, rubbing her hands up and over and around his shoulders affectionately. “I’m good.”

“Good.” He kissed her hard and descended down her body, licking and sucking every inch of skin to pass his lips, kneeling on the floor between her spread legs and even pulling her closer to the beds edge, with a barely audible grunt of pain, as he went. 

“Bra. Off.” 

He didn’t wait for her to comply with his latest command, or even react at all.

Sansas breath punched out of her chest on a desperate moan as he licked clean through her folds and breathed her in like she was the sweetest smelling flower.

What followed was an education unlike anything Sansa had ever experienced.

Sandor feasted on her.

His tongue was everywhere. His nose was buried in her curls. He grunted and groaned and sucked and lathed at her like she was the single best thing he’d ever tasted and he simply couldn’t get enough of her.

And as he’d promised, she ached for him, even as she was bombarded with more and more stimulation than she’d ever experienced. She aches desperately for _more._

She was out of control, yet she could function enough to twist and rip her rear clasping bra off when he shoved it up and over the breasts he wanted to rub and grip at.

She never wanted him to stop what he was doing to her and yet she wanted him to stop immediately, and give her _himself_ instead, too.

Sandor pulled one of his hands back to himself, and pushed a single, thick finger inside, turning his entire _feasting_ attention to her clit, and she _sang._ Her whole body shook and shuddered as she wailed out her release, wave after wave crashing over her until she was left wrung out and exposed on the bed before him.

“Told you I’d make you sing.” He chuckled between lazy lapping licks.

Sansa huffed an exhausted laugh and shoved at his chest with her foot until he gave in and moved away from her sensitive folds.

“I don’t think I can move.” She panted as he climbed up on the bed and attempted to direct her around so she could lay with him.

Sandor barked an entirely too smug sounding laugh and patted the space on the bed directly before his somehow _very naked,_ and relaxed form. She had no idea when he had stripped off his pants, but she didn’t really care either. 

He presented a very tempting picture.

“Come on woman, we are not bloody done yet.”

Sansa whined in her throat as he squeezed his very hard, very large dick, and grinned wickedly at her. She gave in and wiggled and rolled until she was on her back, her side pressed flush to his front where he lazed on his side.

“There she is… How you feeling Birdy?” He asked quietly, affectionately nosing at her and stealing soft kisses. “Want me, or are you done for the night?”

“I want you. I just can’t move enough to take you yet, and you’re too sore to hold yourself over me instead.” She smiled against his lips and sighed. “So you will have to wait a few minutes.”

“Bugger that.” He hauled her hips around, half twisting her body and tucking her top leg up over his own with a wicked smirk. “Right here suits me just fine.”

Sansa frowned in question, and then moaned at the feel of his hard length slipping between her wet lips and nudging at her clit, right there, from where they were lazing together and snuggling.

“Sansa?”

He was asking permission. After everything they had already done, and her already having given clear indication that she did, indeed want him. Sandor was asking permission again, while being poised and raring to go at her opening. 

Her heart exploded in her chest and she wanted to kiss him and give him everything, for that gesture alone.

“God yes. _Please.”_

He felt even bigger than he looked. And she was oddly grateful for the strange position once he finished the very first smooth, but extremely tight, slide into her body. Because she honestly didn’t think that she could take the few inches of him that didn’t quite make it thanks to the angle of their hips.

Sandor groaned deeply and gripped her thigh with hard, unforgiving fingers once he was in.

“Fuck me, you’re tight.”

“Fuck me, you’re big!” She sassed back and squeaked as he laughed into her shoulder and rocked himself in and out of her as gently as he could.

“Aye. I did warn you.” He groaned and readjusted the hold he had on her body, sliding his hand heavily down over her inner thigh until he was gripping her right next to where they were joined. And then started to slowly build a rhythm, obviously letting her get used to the feel of him. “You feel so fucking good, Sansa. You alright?”

Rather than answering with words, she squeezed around him and whined at the feeling, while twisting enough to nose at his cheek. He grunted and cursed her and started moving for real, while biting and sucking at her shoulder.

Sansa moaned and rocked with him, surprised despite his having told her, at just how good it felt to have him inside of her. Surprised at just how full and stretched she felt, despite having fair warning of how big he was.

“That’s it Baby, fuck yourself on my cock.” He growled against her ear. “I’m not gonna last long, but you are coming again with me inside you. So you best bloody move with me.”

His hand pushed higher up her body, until he was cupping her over and around, and pressing into her with a firm pressure, where he was pumping in and out at a steady, even pace. His long fingers opening her up even more than she already was.

And just like that she was moving even more, rocking even harder. Whining desperately as a stronger, deeper need started building with the heavy pleasure, almost pained ache of him hitting things she did not even know existed up inside of her. And with the friction of his heavy hand rocking and pressing over her sensitive clit.

“Like that, don’t you?” He groaned and sucked at her earlobe.

She gripped him again in wordless answer, and whined desperately at the sweet agony the extra movement caused.

“Fuck. Keep doing that. Keep squeezing me.” He ordered and bucked just a touch harder, making her wail and reach out to grip his backside. “That’s it. Fuck Baby.” He groaned.

They moved things a little bit faster again, and she was completely overwhelmed.

She could feel the muttering and grunting and growling vibrating out of his sweaty chest and into her equally sweaty back and side, every bit as much as she could hear it close by her ear while he nuzzled and kissed her wherever he could reach his mouth and nose. 

The slick slide and pull of their bodies made the most vulgar slapping and squelching sounds.

Her own moisture was slicking even her thighs and all over Sandor too.

And she didn’t have time to be worried about any of it, because all of it fed the feeling thrumming through her and tightening up at her core.

Sandor cursed harshly and slipped his fingers back up to rub vigorously at her clit as his hips pistoned harder and harder.

Sansa screamed as she ruptured around him, gripping and releasing and shuddering and shaking, just as he exploded inside of her with an animalistic, guttural groan, and a vice like grip on her body to hold her in place while he did.

“Fucking hell, Birdy.”

She laughed breathlessly and turned her face at his insistent nudging, to smile and moan into his messy kisses, while their lower bodies continued to roll and rub together through the last of their individual and joint twitching and shuddering.

“You tell me that was fucking anything like slogging through the mud in socks and I’m going to pull out enough so I can smack this sexy fucking perky ass, like an errant an child!” He growled. “That was fucking spectacular.”

Sansa giggled uncontrollably at his carry on and reached up to cup his smiling face, lovingly.

“You win. You made your point.” She huffed a laugh at his arrogant cocked brow and smug smile. “It was spectacular - and not even remotely like walking in mud with socks.” She recited back. “Now I understand the draw and I’m even alright with the mess.”

“Damned fucking right I was. And speaking of the mess, I don’t want to bloody pull out. Think my cock is quite happy to just stay in you for the foreseeable future.”

She giggled and wiggled just enough for him to slip out, falling even more wetly back to his leg, than she’d anticipated.

Sandor pulled back and looked down with a snort.

“You can bloody clean that up now woman! I’ve got come all over me.” He huffed and slapped her butt. “I’m going to enjoy watching you stumble around like a newborn baby giraffe after pulling that, too!”

_“Baby_ indeed!” She laughed and rolled until she was on legs that were annoyingly, exactly as he’d described - like the unsteady stance of a newborn giraffe. “You know you called me that?”

“Did fucking not!” He called out as she stumbled her way to the bathroom.

“Did so! _Twice!”_ She yelled back.

“Fucking hearing things, Birdy. - _Birdy_ \- I can understand how you got confused, had your pretty head floating up in space the whole time and _Birdy_ sounds a bit like _that.”_

Sansa snorted rudely as she wet down a fresh washcloth and used it quickly between her thighs, and then rinsed it again to take out to him.

“You called me _Baby,_ Sandor.” She sing songed back. “And _your woman.”_ She waggled her eyebrows as she attempted to strut back into the room, waving her washcloth at him playfully as she climbed back on the bed with all the grace of a drunk preying mantis.

“Did fucking not!” He snatched the cloth and pointed at her nose. “I said that I was showing you how a man treats _his woman._ That’s different.”

“Semantics.” She waved him off and then shrieked a laugh and ducked, as he threw the newly soiled cloth at her.

“Come here. You need to fucking sleep. I made you come so hard that you’re becoming fucking delusional.” He grumbled and pulled her down until she was tucked into his chest and covered with his blankets too. Never mind her breathless and uncontrollable laughter. “Drive me crazy you do. Even after giving me the best fucking sex I’ve ever had, you drive me utterly buggering mad with your bullshit chirping.”

“That why you called me _Baby?_ Because it was the - _ahhh stop it!”_ She shrieked and wiggled and collapsed into peals of laughter as he pinned her against his chest, and tickled her merciless. _“Sandor!”_

“Nope. Fuck ya, woman! You earned either a good tickling or a good spanking, for your shit - and my hands are too sore for a spanking!”

“You just did _fuck ya woman!”_ She sassed between giggles. “That’s why - and _when,_ you called me _baby!”_

“I’ll give you Baby!” He laughed and actually smacked her hip lightly, in place of her bottom, which was pressed to him again and too hard to get to.

“I’m hoping you do!” She huffed and turned to press a hard kiss to his scarred cheek while he bit her shoulder. “Now stop tickling me _Baby.”_

“Now who’s calling who Baby? Huh?”

“At least I’ll admit to it.” 

She snarked and shrieked with laughter anew as his fingers started up their ticking all over again.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Throwing slow burn in the fuck it bucket! So there!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor.

“Clegane.” 

Sandor looked up from the new membership forms he’d been working his way through, and met the cold pale eyes of his morning client, offering a firm nod in greeting, before slipping the file closed and setting it aside for Arya to deal with when she was in next.

“Bolton.” He grunted in reply.

“Not often you are seen up here at the front desk, is it?”

Sandor took the hand that was held out to him and shook it as the man expected, while eyeing the short, round woman at his side for a beat, before returning to the man.

Roose Bolton was a creepy bastard. Sandor couldn’t pinpoint what it was about him exactly, because they actually got on alright. But it amused him a bit, to think that the older mans entire demeanour screamed _serial killer_ to Sandor - even though he was actually a pretty bloody decent guy.

Bolton was bit _old school._ He shook hands with every man he stopped to speak with, and he feigned interest in people he clearly gave little fucks about. And he stood whenever one of the chicks that either worked at, or frequented his gym walked into the room - unless he was busy with his work out.

The fucker even opened doors for Arya if he was close enough to have the opportunity. - Which he’d seen her snort at on more than one occasion.

So the very fact that he had arrived with a woman beside him, when he was in for a hard training session with Sandor, and when he wouldn’t curse in front of one, was fucking curious.

“Just me in until a bit later in the day. Figured it would save you coming looking for me up the hall.” He watched his own mouth out of respect for his client, when he noticed that the mans hand was lingering on the smiling woman’s thick waist.

“Good of you. Now-” Bolton turned and actually fucking smiled, setting the woman off into a high pitched fucking twittering fit of giggles that set his teeth on edge. “This is my wife Walda. Love, this is Sandor Clegane - _The Hound._ He’s the owner here at _‘Strangers Gym’.”_

Sandor blinked in surprise, but held his hand out all the same. 

He hadn’t known the man was married, or possibly more rightly, had been planning on doing so, at all. Yet there he stood, with a blushing bride. One who clearly thought the sun shone out of the cold bastards ass.

Being that his ugly ass had woken up with the fucking stunner that is Sansa Stark wrapped around his back like a gods damned mix up of a vine and a big spoon, he had no buggering right to pass judgement on anyone. Especially not someone as obviously fucking happy as the little fat chick before him. 

It wasn’t his stinking business that she looked barely old enough to be out of school, maybe close to The Runts age at absolute most, let alone married to a cold bastard like Roose Bolton who was probably a good three decades her senior.

People wanted who they fucking wanted.

“Walda is it?” He asked.

He’d heard just fine, he just figured he should attempt to be a bit polite. 

She looked like someone he should be polite to. 

She hadn’t once flinched at him, or stared at his scars, or made some snide comment about them, or about him being a fucking giant either. So if for no other reason, he’d offer her some bullshit courtesies, that most others wouldn’t fucking get.

At least he could fucking try.

He usually only bothered with Mother Stark, and only because it wasn’t worth the earbashing he’d cop from her if he didn’t.

Sansa would laugh if she was there to see him trying it with someone else, but she’d be pleased with him for putting some effort into being nice too.

“Yes!” She giggled again and shook his arm like a wet rag, making him even more uncomfortable than he already buggering was. “So good to meet you! I’ve not met too many around town yet. I’m new here, I come from a little place in the northern part of The Riverlands… Well I did! Now I live here with my handsome man, you see.” Sandor swallowed his snort of amusement and shot the man in question, a quick look. The girl didn’t pause to even fucking breathe before she was going again. “I hope you don’t mind me tagging along, Roose mentioned his training session just the other day and I told him about the last time I tried to go to the gym myself… It wasn’t a pleasant experience for someone like me, see I felt very _judged…_ Well… Big softy that he is, Roose offered to help me try again, and introduce us. And here I am! Why do you call it _‘Strangers Gym’,_ and not _‘The Hounds Gym’_ \- if that’s your nickname?”

Sandor barked a laugh in sheer exasperation over the insane bloody speed she prattled on at, and pointed to the cat lazing in the sun on the floor behind her, flicking his tale to show he was awake, but clearly ignoring them, so that he’d have time to work out what the fuck she had actually said.

“That’s Stranger. Named the gym for my cat, because he’s the toughest bastard I know.” He shrugged lazily. “And welcome to Winterfell. You hang about here, you’ll meet plenty of people-“

“None of whom will judge you for having an interest in working out, should you desire it.” The man beside her interrupted with a gentle squeeze of the girls hand, and a pointed look to him, making him smirk.

“Too fuc-... Too right they won’t.” He chuckled at her wide eyed blinking, likely caused by his slip and almost abandonment of his bullshit attempt at manners.

He’d tried, wasn’t his fault that it felt so buggering unnatural.

Bolton could get fucked if he had a problem with it. 

“I don’t tolerate bull like that here girl. You want to workout, we’ll get you working and if anyone has anything negative to say about it, they’ll have two choices, they can take their asses across town to the fancy impersonal chain franchise gym, with the rest of the pretty peacocks who need mirrors to watch themselves flex. Or they can get in the damned ring and learn that getting put on their ass in there, is the only kind of smackdown I’ll allow here. Got no time for folks who pass judgement for someone just trying to better themselves.”

He reached over the desk he’d rounded when he stood to greet them and pulled a new membership form out for her. “Take that. Sit and watch today if you want. But fill it out and bring it back whenever, and we will sit down and have a chat about what you want to do, and what you hope to achieve, after that. No pressure there either, it’s about what _you_ want. Not anyone else.”

The short woman beamed at first him and then her husband as she took the form out of his lax fingers, with an excited flourish.

And then she was fucking hugging him! Quick as a flash she was smooshed up against him, squeezing for all she was bloody worth. Then she was gone again, and leaning into her disturbingly amused husband, batting her lashes at the creepy fucker, like he’d hung the fucking moon - just for her.

“Oh you are a dear! Thank you Mr. Hound! - Can I pat Stranger, while you two do - whatever it is you do?” She swung her wide eyes back to him and asked, like she was a kid asking how fucking far off Christmas was.

Sandor snorted a laugh and shrugged, eyeing his arrogant boy over her shoulder in amusement. And utterly baffled by the crazy chick who had crash his quiet morning at the gym.

“Call me Sandor, fucking hell!” He huffed and shook his head, not even caring about his full slip up after she’d fucking hugged him. “You can try to pat him if you want. He’s a surly bastard, but he behaves for Sansa - acts like a right bloody sook for her actually! And she talks almost as much as you, so you might be alright.” He laughed darkly as Bolton actually snorted and almost smiled along with him.

“Sansa? Who’s that?”

“Cleganes girlfriend. Sansa Stark - you’ll like her, everyone does.” Roose answered for him.

Sandor scoffed and waved towards the machines they’d be working on to warm up as he shook his head.

“Not my girlfriend. But aye, you’ll like her. She’s too fucking nice to not like.”

He turned and started walking, not bothering to see if they were following or not.

Last thing he needed was Bolton taking notice of anything showing on his face, over Sansa being called his girl.

People confused them as a couple all the fucking time. 

There was even that one chick who thought she was his wife and that he’d been enough of a cunt to spend the entire night fucking her senseless, while Sansa wasn’t home. 

Usually he didn’t bother correcting people over it, because he didn’t fucking care if they thought them more than friends. Plus it had the added bonus of keeping little weakling pricks from sniffing around his Birdy, like dogs circling a bitch in heat. A point that they both took full advantage of.

But given where things were at with them, he felt a bit buggering awkward about it.

She was still his best friend, still the chirpy Little Bird who drove him nuts one minute and made him laugh the next. And as far as he knew, she still wanted to throw conventional relationships in the fuck it bucket, and have kids together as friends.

And yet he’d also had to shush her sleepy whining, and fight off her needy grabbing to wiggle himself free of the tangle that was her warm body in his bed, to get up that very morning. And then he’d had to give into her demands for goodbye kisses and clingy cuddles, so he could leave for the gym too.

Because they’d fucked the night before, and she stayed in his bed when they were done.

So while _‘girlfriend’_ wasn’t right, it also wasn’t exactly fucking wrong either.

“Heard said that Sansas supposed to be moving in with you. - I apologise for making assumptions based on that information.” Bolton smirked up at him as they pulled up beside the treadmills. Apparently having left his woman smothering poor Stranger by the front doors.

He wasn’t an idiot. The fucker didn’t believe for a single second that Sansa wasn’t his girl, and it showed all over his usually blank face.

It was amusing him that Sandor was grumbling about it, too.

“How the fuck did _you_ hear that?” He demanded, arms crossing over his thick chest, and thankfully only twinging slightly in protest. 

“Catelyn. I came across her doing her groceries yesterday. She was getting an excessive amount of chicken, apparently having set herself the task of preparing some meals so that neither of you need to worry about it, while Sansa settles in. Because you’re a big fan of her chicken dishes.”

Sandor barked a surprised laugh and followed it with a groan as he tipped his head to stare up at the high warehouse ceiling above him.

He had forgotten to ask Sansa about her Mother’s supposedly _positive_ reaction. But with both The Runt, and Bolton claiming that she’s fucking happy about it for whatever reason, he had no cause to question the truth of it. - Catelyn Starks sanity in being happy that he’d have even more contact with her daughter, than he already had? - That he could question, but not that she apparently _was_ buggering pleased by it, because he’d now been told by two people who weren’t exactly the type to lie to him for no reason.

It was as amusing as it was fucking typical, that the woman would show her support or whatever, by trying to feed him.

She had a real thing about feeding him, and a real thing about making sure she cooked his favourite foods when she did.

He shook his head in defeat, understanding that if Bolton knew because Cat had been telling him in the grocery store, then it was only a matter of hours - days if he was lucky, that the whole bloody town would know. 

“Aye, she’s moving in.” He admitted with a small huff of tired laughter. “Don’t mean shit. She’s my best friend. - Now stop fucking gossiping at me!” He pointed at the shorter man. “What I like about you Bolton? It’s that you’re my one client, that don’t talk my fucking ears off about nonsensical shit, while we work. Don’t fuck that up for me, or I’ll work you so hard you can’t bloody walk, let alone fuck that young wife of yours.”

The man actually laughed.

Just as Sandor had stepped on to the machine and turned it on. 

He almost fucking fell off it in shock.

“Be nice Hound, and I might let you know that Walda has an unhealthy obsession with flowers and all their different meanings… You know, if you were interested in getting that _not_ girl of yours a welcome home gift.”

“Fucking what?” He snapped, staring at the buggering idiot, stupidly.

“Pay back. You made my wife happy. You made her feel welcome here, even though I could see her propensity for chatter was giving you a headache.” The man shrugged. “I’m returning the favour, and offering help, in making your young lady happy also.”

Sandor snorted rudely and reached over to up the speed and incline on the mans machine, forcing him to up his game faster than normal while he was still working at stretching his arms out, as he always did during his initial warm up steps.

He was gonna make the fucker hurt for his unexpected and out of character cheek.

“Go fuck yourself Bolton.” He growled darkly and upped his own efforts too.

“Ahh Clegane, you’re always such a pleasure to be around.” The man quipped back, but kept pace without a single misstep.

“Not here for your pleasure fucker. I’m here to make you hurt.” He laughed darkly.

By the time they left, he’d had the man drenched in sweat and half groaning, half laughing at his method of revenge.

By the time they left, there was also not one, but two fucking ridiculously huge and utterly fucking stupid flower arrangements that he needed to load into his truck, and take home to put in her room before he headed over to help her finish up packing. 

There was a decent fucking dent in his credit card because of it too. And a few highly amused employees, who knew damned well how bloody stupid it would be if they were to make comment on them.

And if he didn’t know better, he’d fucking swear Stranger, the cunt, had been laughing at him rather than purring from his seat in the truck beside him, as they drove home with a backseat that looked like a fucking hearse without a coffin.

Sandor was bloody uncomfortable about the whole damned thing. But it had made the little Bolton chick happy to feel like she was helping him out as a friend might. 

He knew it’d make Sansa happy too, which was way more important to him. 

He’d never bought a chick flowers in his life. So if he was going to do it, it may as well be for Sansa.

She liked that sort of shit, and he liked her. 

Plus she’d be just as happy with him because he made a conscious effort to be nice to someone just because he could. It might even get him laid a second time, which would be fucking fantastic benefit!

They _had_ just fucked for the first time - so it wasn’t too fucking strange or random an act he supposed.

It had been great sex. Definitely worthy of flowers.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I know what I’m doing? Absolutely not. Lol.
> 
> Sandor is trying to make nice with a newbie to twin and buying flowers? Sansa is rubbing off on him a little!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa

“So…. How was it?”

Sansa jumped like a spooked cat at the sickly sweet and taunting voice sliding over her ear, and turned to glare at her grinning sister.

How the hell she managed to sneak up on people like that was completely lost on Sansa. But it was creepy, and she really wished she wouldn’t do it.

Sansa had been taking advantage of finally being alone enough to be able to let her mind wander, after having her entire family underfoot supposedly _helping_ her pack up her stuff and clean the Guesthouse, distracting her from replaying the night before over and over in her mind.

Arya’s interrupted that with her stealthy sneak attack arrival, and she was equal parts embarrassed at being caught daydreaming, while folding the last of the clothes that she had needed washing that morning before she could pack them, and irritated that she still couldn’t be alone for more than a few moments at a time.

“Well you don’t need to tell me it was good, that stupid face you keep pulling tells me that! But spill! _How big is the Big Dog?_ In proportion, or bigger? Is he a biter and a grunter? I feel like he’d be a both. - Bet he’s a hungry, demanding fuck too!” Arya wiggled her dark eyebrows suggestively. “Am I right?”

Sansa hissed and shushed her cackling sister and checked over her shoulder and out the door to make sure none of their brothers, or worse still - _their father -_ could hear her carry on.

“Do I want to know _how you know-“_

“You’ve been smiling and blushing all morning, Stupid. You were the same yesterday when I dropped the car off to you. - You’re all… Gushy -“ Arya waved a hand for dramatic emphasis. “- or whatever. - Like _super_ happy. _And_ I kind of figured it was coming after yesterday in the gym.”

Sansa blushed again and bit her lip as her sister explained.

“Am I that obvious?” She whispered.

She was genuinely curious as to whether she was.

And she was genuinely curious given her sister’s excited interrogation, and her Mama’s weird reaction to her telling her about moving in with Sandor, if they had all somehow seen something more between her and Sandor, that she had been completely blind to for years. 

Or whether that strange _hope,_ she was feeling, was maybe more like some fantastical desire cooked up by all the newly released chemicals in her brain, thanks to her sex high. - Something she had only very recently learned was a real thing… Thanks to Sandor.

“Duh!” Her little sister rolled her eyes at her like she was stupid and continued her demands for details. “Now answer me! He’s big- _big_ isn’t he? And a beast in the sack too? He made you actually _like sex_ didn’t he?”

Sansa squirmed under the scrutiny, but held back on telling her to mind her own business. - Like she really should.

They never really talked about it when boys - or more rightly _men,_ now that they were grown women, who were good to them. They complained when boys or men were asses to them, always searching each other out to vent, and making sure to warn each other away if they saw a huge flaw in a particular crush too. But they’d never gossiped about the good ones.

Sansa had never really had a good one that she wanted to gossip with her sister about.

Arya knew that she hadn’t ever really understood the draw of sex. - Like Sandor, she had understood immediately that it was because Sansa had always been left wanting… And sticky and messy, with no real _personal_ pay off. - While Arya had been vocal in her defence of the _fun_ of sex, she also supported Sansas choice to just not want it too.

Arya also understood and fully respected, Sansas refusal to get too deeply involved with anyone who wouldn’t or couldn’t understand and accept the importance of her friendship with Sandor, without getting jealous.

Her sister _understood her._ And she _respected her_ choices.

But it still felt weird to have her ask so many invasive questions about Sandor. - Almost as weird as it felt _knowing_ the answers to such questions about Sandor. 

Arya and Sandor had their own unique relationship, and she honestly hadn’t expected her sister to know they’d been together to begin with. Nor did she expect that she’d want to know anything about Sandors prowess in the bedroom ever, either.

Her sister waggled her eyebrows again, this time encouragingly, making her laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation.

Sansa groaned and looked over her shoulder again, just to be certain that no-one was listening in, even by accident.

She bit her lip and smiled shyly at her sister.

“He did show me… _a good time._ If you will.” She huffed a laugh as Arya punched the air and held her other fist out for a bump. Which Sansa gave her so she wouldn’t whine about being left hanging. “As for the rest of what you asked?” She shrugged and smiled to herself as she applied Arya’s expectations to the memories, amused at just how accurate she got it _all._ “Clearly you can use your imagination!”

“That’s a yes to everything I said. The Big Dog is _a big_ beast in the sack.” Arya cackled and fell backwards dramatically onto the now bare mattress of her now _old_ bed, beside the suitcase and basket of clean clothes that Sansa was still working on.

She really probably shouldn’t have given in and told her sister details about the things that happened between her and Sandor. Not that she really did, she just let her think what she wanted - her thoughts were pretty accurate after all. But she kind of wanted to talk about it, too.

Sansa hadn’t really ever _gushed_ about a lover before though. 

Plus she didn’t have female friends - at least not ones that she could talk like that with anymore, besides Arya. Not after moving south for school, and then back north with Sandor, and growing apart as a result.

And of course, she didn’t think it would work, talking to her best friend about it. Though he’d probably find her _gushing_ incredibly amusing, she supposed. Even if he was as embarrassed by the whole thing as she would be.

“It’s fun isn’t it?” 

Sansa snorted an exasperated laugh at her sisters snide little comment, and the way she folded her arms under her head and smiled up at the roof as though she was lost in her own _lovely daydreams,_ just as Sansa had been when she snuck up on her.

“Something about those big lads that are built like bulls.” Her little sister sing-songed and sighed happily. - Almost in girlish delight, making Sansa laugh in surprise. “Though Sandor is much more of a bison, or something like that. - If we are going by any sort of scale.”

“Alright. Spill.” Sansa slapped the last piece of clothing down onto the pile in her suitcase and shut it quickly, so she could move it off the bed and flop down beside her sister. “Who’s your _bull?”_

“Gendry.” She stated honestly, naming another trainer at Sandors gym who she had been friendly with for awhile now.

Arya shrugged carelessly and tipped her head to the side to face where Sansa had laid down beside her. 

“It’s not serious, we are just sharing body fluids when the need arises. But man, _is it good_.” She chuckled and shook her head. “Don’t tell the boss I was your source of inspiration, but if you are curious, the grappling mats in the gym are comfy, and the shower head in the second stall of the women’s change rooms is one of those handheld ones that you can move around… It has excellent pressure too, for added fun.”

Sansa laughed softly and scrunched her face up at the mental picture that she didn’t need, of Arya and Gendry wrestling naked on the mats.

“If you’re fucking in my gym girl, make sure you clean up your fucking mess properly when you’re done. And be bloody sure there’s never a chance that I walk in on you.” A highly amused voice grumbled from the doorway, making her belly flutter in nervous excitement. 

She twisted and grinned at her best friend, earning a rather cocky wink for herself.

“Also, stay out of my fucking office, or I’ll duct tape you to the top of the climbing wall and then geld your friend.” He continued and warned her sister with a glare.

Sandor pushed off the door and strolled over closer as Arya laughed carelessly, and waved him off with a lazy hand. Clearly reading permission in his words, while ignoring his growled commands and threats, too.

She let her eyes drag over him slowly, drinking in his largely muscled, and extremely sexy form, with a whole new level of appreciation… A bit like a damned lecher.

Sandor coughed, drawing her eyes upward. His smug look telling her without words that she had been caught.

“You’re finished earlier than I expected?” She cleared her throat awkwardly, hoping to god that he’d let her embarrassing slip go without comment.

Sandor hummed in amusement, making her blush even more.

“Aye.” He sighed, nodding in understanding of her silent plea. “Just a single training session this morning. Decided against doing more paperwork before Monday, so I only needed to wait for the fuckers working today to show up, and I got out of there.” He nodded to her bare bed and grinned. “You've been busy though, Ned says you’re all done now... He and the lads were heading back to the house when I pulled up… I saw all your shit is on the porch ready to go in the truck, except whatever’s left in here.”

“He tell you Mother Stark has made a big to-do over Sansa moving in with you?” Her sister asked. “We all got dragged over to help Sansa pack and clean, so Mama could justify a big brunch celebration, type shindig.” Arya teased him with a cocky little grin. “Ready to face them as the _in-laws_ , Big Guy?”

“Arya!” Sansa groaned and shook her head before mouthing a silent ‘sorry’ to an amused, yet almost awkwardly bashful looking Sandor.

“Ready to face the family of people I’ve bloody known for years, sure.” He scratched at his beard in thought, and shrugged a bit stiffly. “Ready for you to be a fucking big mouth, and share what I’m assuming your sister has shared with you? - Not if she’s not buggering ready for everyone else to know, fuck no.” 

Sandor coughed and looked at her sheepishly. 

“You did tell her we fucked, right? I _assumed_ because of the shit I overheard when I came in, bu-“

“I told her, calm down.” She interrupted with an embarrassed laugh and smiled up at him awkwardly.

She was uncomfortable all of a sudden, to be faced with him fully awake, for the first time since the night before, and in someone else’s presence.

It was one thing for them to talk about having slept together, and one thing that she might have such a conversation with her sister too. But it was an entirely different game, to talk about them having slept together, together with her sister.

It was pretty obvious he was feeling the same way too.

“Keep looking at each other like that and they’ll all figure it out in under a minute.” Arya snorted a dark laugh and jumped up off the bed. “I’ll just drag this suitcase, and the wash basket out shall I? So you can be all intense, and stare at each other _without_ an unwilling audience.”

Arya stomped out of the room with a flourish, taking the last of Sansas things out with her, and pulling the door closed behind her.

“There’s still cleaning supplies in the bathroom if things get _messy!_ Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” She yelled on her way out.

Sansa blushed heavily, and scrunch her face up, while Sandor huffed a breathy laugh and stepped up to the edge of the bed where her legs were hanging over.

“Hey Birdy.” He grinned.

“Hey.” She whispered and sat up, spreading her knees a little so he could step closer still, if he wanted.

Sandor scoffed and knelt down on the carpet before her, so she wasn’t at an awkwardly suggestive height, and leaned in to give her a quick kiss. A chaste little peck that chased away whatever lingering discomfort she was feeling.

“So that Runt knows we fucked huh?” He hedged, cocking a brow that she just knew was a question as to what else she had told her.

“That’s all she knows for certain. Though she did ask for details, and I may have let her believe the things she asked… _about you…_ were true, so she’d leave me alone.”

Sandor barked a dangerous laugh and cupped her face to lift her up for another kiss, this one a tiny bit rougher, but still fairly chaste.

“Tell her whatever you want Birdy. I hardly fucking care. So long as she doesn’t try to fucking murder me for doing a poor job of taking care of you, it’s no hair off my ass what she thinks. Only what _you_ think.”

Sansa hummed quietly, rather pleased to find that he wasn’t even remotely pissed at her for revealing any sort of details about their very new sex life, to his friend and also his employee.

She should have known he wouldn’t care, but this _was_ all new territory between them too. So it wasn’t as easy to predict as platonic situations between them usually were.

“And _the in-laws -_ as she so put it… You alright with facing them after things _shifted_ between us, just last night?” She asked, genuinely curious about it, given his oddly nervous behaviour before when Arya mentioned it. “For the sake of clarification, I don’t intend on _telling_ them anything yet, because I don’t know what I’m supposed to tell them yet. My plan was to wait until I was.. You know? Pregnant… But that was… _Before.”_

Sandor shrugged and let his hands come to rest in her lap, while hers found his hips and toyed with his shirt.

“S’fine Sansa.” He huffed a quiet laugh. “Not like I would be bragging about fucking you senseless to your old boy, is it?”

Sansa squeaked indignantly and pinched his side for his teasing.

“He doesn’t want to bloody hear that, and I don’t want to bloody share my delicious memories with any fucker either. Let alone your Dad.” He chuckled. “That’s why I came in here looking for you, instead of heading up to the house with them. - Wanted to see you alone first if I could and find out what your plan was, before I fucked it up on you, and grabbed your ass in front of everyone at lunch, or something.” 

Sandor squeezed her knees gently and let his hands slide up over the tops of her thighs, making her tingle in a way that made her want to clench the thighs spread around his kneeling form, together… Or drag him closer to press against.

“The _evil little one_ thinks that your parents think we are fucking anyway.” He chuckled at her startled frown. “She told me that yesterday, but I forgot to ask you about it, distracted as I was.” Sandor winked again, making her blush, thinking on all of the many ways he had been distracted from remembering to tell her that, the day before. 

“Anyway.” He huffed a gruff laugh and shook his head. “I’m taking that to mean that my balls might be safe yet, from Mother Starks scary vengeance, when you do tell her you’re having my kid. So I’m not worrying about shit, Sansa.” Sandor smiled softly at her and patted her legs gently. “Just let me know _when_ and _if_ it’s alright for me to start touching you in public, like you are letting me when it’s just us. And I’m good.”

Sansa giggled in surprise and gave into the desire to shuffle closer. She wrapped her arms up and around his neck, wanting to cuddle him and be cuddled by him too, more than anything else in that moment.

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect your balls in the event that we have both read my mothers reaction to us moving in together, all wrong.” She whispered playfully as her chin came to rest on the join of his neck and shoulder. “But we aren’t wrong, and I think Arya might be right too… I think they know something is going on with us.”

Sansa nudged at his jaw with her nose like a needy cat, and hugged him just a bit tighter too, relishing the feeling of comfort that he always gave her, still being prominent when she hugged him.

“Also, we both know that you will grab my butt if you damned well want to, and not care a single bit, what anyone thinks or concludes about us because you did!” She teased playfully, making him laugh. “Just hold back on the obviously newfound _affections_ \- that will have them asking us outright, what has changed.” She turned her burning face into his neck more fully. “At least until we figure out exactly what those changes mean… That’s all.”

He grunted in wordless agreement and wrapped her in his arms for a proper hug, before planting a kiss on the side of her head and pulling himself free of her hold and standing completely.

“Works for me, now we need to get up there before they send someone to search us out.” He smirked at her knowingly. “The sooner we allow Mother Stark to start the buggering _brunch_ she wants us to have, the sooner we can get your shit packed in the truck and go home where it's just us.”

Sansa sighed softly and took his hands to pull herself up off the bed, and then she planted one more kiss to the underside of his bearded jaw, because she could while they were still alone.

“Sounds good to me. I’m hankering for a nap, seeing as how my pillow decided that he was getting up while it was still dark this morning, and then refused to give in to my demands to stay just a bit longer.”

“You’re a needy little thing, you are Birdy! Especially when you’re sleepy. But fine, you can lay all over me, and nap if you want… Can we fuck first though?” He laughed.

Sansa shrugged and tucked herself into his chest, stroking at the thick hair she could feel through his shirt as she did, and smiling up at him playfully.

“I won’t complain if you deliver like you did last night.”

“Right! Let’s get up to the big house and see how fast I can eat whatever it is your Mother is going to try to feed me my weight in today! So we can fuck off _home_!” He wrapped her up in his arms again and held her tightly to his chest and walked her backwards through the doorway, and the rest of the guesthouse until they cleared the porch, while she laughed uncontrollably at his antics. “Not a laughing matter woman!” He bent low enough to be nose to nose with her. “Got a baby bird to make, it’s best if we stack the fucking odds as best we can, I reckon, so we need to fuck like animals - all the damned time.”

“Thought I was your _baby Birdy?”_ She teased, bringing up him calling her _baby_ again.

Sansa shrieked with laughter as he slapped her butt and soothed it with a pat before gripping both cheeks with his huge hands.

“Not letting that go are ya?” He growled against her ear. “Now I am going to smack your ass in front of everyone… _Mama Birdy.”_

“Not _Mama Bird_ yet.” She breathed, relaxing into his needy grabbing and effectively letting him drag her up the gravel pathway to the main house.

Sandor lifted her up and stepped under the low hanging limbs of one of the large trees hiding the house from view still, and pushed her against the wide trunk, while lifting her jeans clad thighs to wrap around his hips.

“I’m too heavy, you’re sor-“ her protest was cut off with the hungry slide of his tongue into her mouth, and against her own.

“Not that sore girl.” He mumbled against her lips. “Not so sore that I can’t handle holding you up against this fucking tree, and give another red hot bloody crack at getting _my baby bird_ in your belly, while I’m at it.” He bit her lip, making her groan and pull him in tighter, and even buck against him a little bit. “Right here. Right now.”

“Bleh. Yuck!” She and Sandor both startled and swung their heads around to find Arya doubled over and roaring with laughter around her faux gagging noises, on the path they had not long ago been attempting to walk up. “I wanted to _know,_ but I did _not_ want to see!”

Sandor lowered her to the ground slowly, and pressed a distracted kiss to her head, where it was buried in his chest while she laughed uncontrollably from embarrassment.

“Just for that _Big Dog,_ I’m so gonna let My Bull pound me on your desk and make sure you will have to walk in and se- _ahh!”_

“Meet ya at the house, I’ve got a Runt to fucking kill.”

Sansa positively howled with laughter as Sandor took off running after a cackling Arya, across the lawns and around the trees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Arya.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhh? NSFW warning...

“Huh.” Sandor panted.

It occurred to him, as he lay on his back, trousers around his ankles, being smothered by a tangle of silky red hair, with his spent dick still snugly encased in his best friends warm, wet, bloody perfect body, that there was actually merit to buying a woman flowers.

He had known he’d earn some sort of points with it, maybe shock her and make her give him that fucking cute little shy smile she’d been giving him lately. And he had hoped that it would get him laid too. - He wasn’t a prick, that had only been a hope, not an expectation and not even really his full reasoning either. But he wouldn’t deny that it was part of it.

Truth be told though, he definitely didn’t fucking think she’d jump him the moment she spotted them.

And yet there they were: sweaty, panting and well fucked. In the spare room which Sansa had always claimed as her own, with his truck and the front door wide fucking open still. Because his needy Little Bird wanted his cock immediately after she discovered the flowers he’d left in her room.

Sandor had barely put the box he’d lugged inside down before he was being shoved on the damned bed and stripped. He was fairly confident that she’d never been so aggressive in bed with any fucker before, as she had been with him in that moment. Given her history with shithouse lovers, he’d expected that it would take time to really bring the she Wolf that he knew she could be out to play.

Apparently he had been very wrong about that. All it had taken was some bloody flowers.

Sansa hadn’t even bothered to take her pants off fully, just whipped one leg out of her jeans and panties, and jumped on, while trying to choke him with her hungry little tongue. And the only thing that indicated that it was an out of character reaction from her was the fact that he’d had to help ease her over and onto himself because she was so fucking tight and her body obviously not used to such a bloody big intrusion. And then he’d had to help her move initially and also withstand her almost fucking innocent experimentation after that, because if he’d had to guess, those fucking twats she’d been with before him had never encouraged her to take control for herself.

He didn’t know if he wanted to beat all her exes within an inch of their miserable lives for never treating her to a good, decent fuck. Or thank the wankers for not knowing what they were doing and making it possible for him to reap the benefits of helping her learn how fantastic it could be.

He was absolutely going to be buying his Birdy flowers on a regular basis if that’s how she reacted every damned time, though. Maybe even to repay the great sex too. 

So they’d end up in a nice cycle.

It was the least he could do really. The sex was mind blowing… Definitely worth flowers.

“You bought me flowers.” Her soft breathy voice stated the fucking obvious.

“Aye. And you fucked me into the bed.” He chuckled and leaned up enough to deliver a rough kiss to the top of her head, where it rested on his chest. “If that’s how you're planning on thanking me for shit like that, I’ll be tempted to try my hand at all that romantic bullshit.”

He grunted as she wiggled herself around on top of him, inadvertently letting him, and a big bloody glop of their combined fluids slip free of her hold, and all over him. While she dropped her pointy bloody chin onto his chest to look up at him. - Not that he cared about being coated in come again, but her chin was fucking uncomfortable.

She gave him that fucking smile though - the one that made him feel like a damned kid with his first ever crush… So he could handle her poking at him for a few minutes.

“They are very sweet. Thank you.”

“Pretty sure you already said that… Screamed it maybe? - Loud and fucking clear.” He snorted and let his hands slide over her still mostly covered curves, until he was fingering the bra that had been unclipped mid-romp and tangled around her neck and shoulder, well out of his way, so he could get at her fantastic tits under her shirt. “The neighbours probably even heard how grateful you were to get some flowers.”

Sansa rolled her eyes and sat up to wiggle herself forward and find a more secure perch on his hips and lower belly, while she adjusted her bra back into place under her shirt. - Much to his disappointment.

“Wasn’t my idea, didn’t even pick them myself.” He shrugged. - A little uncomfortable about it now that they were talking about it, and definitely unwilling to take all the credit for something he had help with. “Bolton suggested it - some shit about me making his missus happy this morning, and him returning the favour. His chatty little wife practically begged me to let her go pick some up for ya, when he mentioned it again in her hearing. I just gave her my credit card and told her to go for it.”

He shrugged awkwardly and eyed her warily as she beamed a bright smile and leaned back over him again. Propping herself on her elbows either side of his head.

“And if you thought it was stupid you wouldn’t have done it. So it still counts.” She kissed his nose. “Also, don’t think I missed how kindly you spoke of Roose Bolton’s new wife, when you mentioned meeting her over brunch at my parents. Even Mama was proud of you for being nice and helping her feel comfortable about going to the gym.”

“Says a lot about how much of a mean bastard I am, when it impresses the women in my life that I wasn’t a complete prick to a possible new client.” Sandor grumbled and then sighed as she laughed softly and stole a kiss. “She’s a nice girl. Bit fucking chatty and way too excitable. But she’s just a kid and she’s already been scared away from other gyms because some cunts seem to think that it’s fine to bully people for being fat. Felt bad for her for that, especially when she didn’t even blink at my scars.”

“Oh you are such a big bad guy!” She laughed against his lips again and pulled back to shake her head - looking entirely too fucking smug for his liking. _“The Hound -_ he’s so grumpy and horrible - that he wants to make friends with the new girl in town.”

Sandor growled dangerously at her fucking cheek and flipped her quickly, until she was flat on her back and all but pinned under him, while also being tangled in her own jeans too.

“Listen here Birdy! I don’t need no more fucking friends. More trouble than they're worth!” He snarled. “One I’ve already got and can’t buggering shake off, makes me chase her around a big fuck off yard, and the fights me like a hell cat when I decide she needs to be tied to a chair for her bullshit shenanigans. And another turns my life on it’s head, makes me crazy, moves her shit into my house, and then jumps me like a sex fiend when I’m not expecting it.” He chuckled darkly as she scoffed and huffed at him. “Got my fucking hands full enough with the two female friends I’ve already got. Don’t need another to make me look all fucking soft and _nice.”_

Sansa hummed in amusement under him, and even fucking stroked and patted his scarred cheek like he was a grumpy old dog who just needed a loving pat to calm him down. He narrowed his eyes and glared at her, adding in a growl for good measure.

Of course he was only bloody playing, she knew full well he wasn’t even remotely pissed off. 

Unlike the first few times she had cupped his scarred cheek and smiled at him, way back when he hated the world and everything in it, but for hard liquor, he didn’t feel the need to scare her off for getting too close.

They were only playing around, but it was a stark reminder of just how far they had come together too. A stark reminder of just how much her influence had softened him - changed his life - over the years.

Even more so, the way she was looking at him in that moment, showed just how much had changed _again_ between them, in recent days and weeks.

He’d long since stopped being the drunk asshole he had been when they met, and she’d long since stopped being that annoyingly perfect little prissy bitch that he had _assumed_ she was when they met. And in recent times they’d stopped being merely friends too.

_If they ever truly were just that._

Sandor shoved his arm under her and lifted, shuffling them both up the bed a ways, so they weren’t half hanging off the side where they had started, and slipped himself between her legs again, taking both hands once they were comfortable, and lacing their fingers together as he bent down to kiss her.

The mood had changed and charged up between them. That much was fucking obvious.

He wasn’t going to make comments on it, he didn’t even want to think on what was driving the sudden, intense need he felt. But he needed to be inside her again, and he could see and feel that she needed the same.

Sandor groaned loudly, unable and unwilling to tamp it down as he slipped his tip into her soft, wet cunt and pushed until he was fully seated for the first time.

He didn’t know if it was the angle, or the fact that their first go had loosened her up enough to take him all. But he didn’t fucking care either! Nor did he care that their previous spending were fucking half dry and pulling at the hair on his nuts. She felt incredible, taking him so deep, and wrapping around his entire length.

Every slow, steady thrust was met with a roll of her hips into his, and shared gasps and grunts sputtered into each other’s mouths, around their sloppy licking and sucking kisses.

Every single time he bottomed out and slapped his balls against her ass, she made a strangled noise in her throat and squeezed him like a silky fist, that was made to fit him perfectly.

He wanted to come, but he didn’t want it to ever fucking end either.

“Sandor!” 

“Fuck!” He cursed and shuddered at the sound of her whining his name.

And at the way she squeezed at his hands where they still held hers beside her head, digging her talons into his knuckles, while her sexy ass, long legs wound around his hips to tug him closer again, and restrict him to shorter, harder thrusts, deep in her cunt, too.

It was fucking bliss. 

Sansa pulled away from his mouth to drag in a few desperate breaths around the quickly building wails she was letting out, and he was struck by the image of her eyes rolling back as she started fucking shaking and shuddering and twitching uncontrollably underneath and around him. Had he not known better he’d have wondered if she was having a fit, and it was weirdly - _given that analogy_ \- the sexiest thing he’d ever fucking seen and felt.

Sandor fucking saw spots dancing around his eyes as his spine tingled, his balls tightened and his cock pulsed hard inside of her, following her own explosive orgasm with one so blasted intense that it almost fucking hurt.

He dropped as much of his weight down on her as he figured she could handle, and buried his face in her hair to avoid her eyes while he caught his breath.

That hadn’t just been a good, fun fuck... And they both knew it.

There was something that didn’t need to be voiced underlying it, and given it was probably the best sex he’d ever had - not even comparable to the two times he’d had sex with Sansa herself, before it, - he really didn’t want to _discuss_ it.

Especially not while he was still mostly hard, and twitching inside her. And not while he was reeling and coming back down from it.

He let go when she tugged at his hands, and instead buried his fingers in her hair, holding her close, while she started patting and stroking at his back and shoulders, and pressing kisses to the side of his head.

“I can’t feel my legs. And I don’t want to move ever again.” She huffed softly and nuzzled into his hair. 

“Like me being balls deep in you, do you?” He snorted back, hoping to dodge the heavy emotions with a bit of humour.

“Well if I didn’t understand how my own body works, I’d almost wonder if you had managed to push into my womb fully and were trying to punch your way out of the top of it.” He barked a surprised laugh at her nonchalant teasing, and half heartedly bit her ear for it. “But I know that’s not actually possible, and suppose I do like it, yes.”

“Told you I’d show you fucking was fantastic. A couple of goes with me and you couldn’t care less about the mess and more importantly, your stubborn ass is willing to admit you were wrong to assume sex was nothing to get excited about.”

“Not going to let that go are you?” She sassed, throwing his own words from earlier in the day back at him.

Sandor laughed softly and pulled his face out of the silky soft tangle of red hair, to look down at her stupidly beautiful face.

“Not a fucking chance _Baby.”_ He grinned and stole her chance to reply by planting a demanding kiss to her already swollen pink lips. “Gotta remind _My Woman_ with words and fucking deeds, that sex ain’t no mud walk - not with me.”

He didn’t give her a chance to reply again, redoubling his efforts to kiss her into forgetting what he’d actually said, by sliding and tangling his tongue with hers, and even throwing in a few nips and sucks for good measure.

“Up woman! We gotta get the rest of your shit, before one of the neighbours decides to investigate why the truck is wide open out the front - and come walking in the wide open door only to cop an eye full of my naked hairy ass between your legs.” He muttered against her sighing lips finally, and pulled back completely, rolling off and sitting up as he did.

He slapped her thigh playfully and jumped up to pull his pants back up enough to stalk into the bathroom to clean up, leaving her laughing and hiding her face in a pillow, still half tangled in her half removed clothes, on the mess of bed that was now hers.

Or at least hers whenever she wasn’t in his bed - which was where he kind of hoped she _was_ more often than bloody not.

He didn’t know if she noticed it or not, but they hadn’t been fooling a single one of her family members at the damned lunch they’d had on the back patio of her parents house. Every buggering one of them had that knowing look in their eyes and an annoying smile on their face that said: _aye, I know you are shagging my sister/daughter._

So there was really little bleeding point in them pretending that _they_ didn’t know what was happening between them either.

They weren’t just best friends having sex to make babies.

They had just fucking _made love_ \- something he’d not even believed to be a real thing, but more a fucking pretentious way to make sex sound like something more than just fucking, until a few moments ago. So they definitely weren’t _just_ friends anymore.

He wasn’t going to label it, but everyone - Roose fucking Bolton included, had the right of it.

She was his girl now, as well as his crazy Little Bird of a best friend who wanted his sperm to make her very own baby bird.

They may as well move forward with just being together and be done with.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew... so... that happened.
> 
> You’re welcome Sarah0520 #OprahdoesSanSanSmut! 😂


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa

It took Sansa next to no time to get her things settled into her new home. Her bedroom no longer looked like her best friends spare room, and the main bathroom that Sandor only ever used for the bath and occasionally the toilet - preferring his en-suite, was decked out with her admittedly extravagant amount of feminine products.

She had even unloaded a few decorative pieces she’d collected over the years into the communal areas of the house. Things like picture frames for the walls and shelves or tables, along with a few knick-knacks. Gimmicky throw pillows went to the couch, her books, music and movies finding home alongside Sandors in their specified units. And of course her massive flower bouquets were relocated to the kitchen bench and the dining room table respectively. Plus her kitchen necessities found their place also.

By Sunday evening her stuff was settled and her place in their now shared home was found.

Her stuff was settled, but Sansa was decidedly  _ unsettled. _

They hadn’t talked about it.

The afternoon before, she had moved in, and they had  _ made love.  _ Like she imagined that a real couple who had just come to realise and even admit their feelings for each other might do.

And she and Sandor had not talked about it.

After they cleaned up from their naked, sticky and sweaty antics, they got right back into bringing her boxes and suitcases in. 

After they had exhausted themselves enough to justify calling it a day, and leaving what was left for the following one, they had ordered pizzas and drank beer and laughed like any other  _ normal  _ day where she might crash at his house for the night.

After they had eaten and drank their fill, they’d showered and climbed into his bed together and not just because hers was still unmade and covered in piles of clothing, but because it felt almost natural for them to retire to the same bed, even if they had no intention of having sex again. Which neither of them did.

And even after finishing it all up, and taking advantage of a lazy afternoon together with Netflix, a comfy couch, a cuddly cat wanting to stretch himself enough to be laying in both of their laps simultaneously, a few more beers and otherwise empty schedules, they were still  _ not  _ talking about it.

“You know it could take us some time, right?”

Sandors low grumble interrupted her confused, almost panicked thoughts, drawing her attention up to his non classically handsome features over the round of the heavily muscled shoulder that she’d been using as a pillow.

He hadn’t bothered to look away from the television at all, but she could see by the way he picked at the label on his beer bottle, that he was thinking just as hard on something as she had been thinking on what she had. Though from his quiet words, it clearly was not the same thing she had been thinking on.

Sansa hummed at him in question, turning her face into his arm more fully and waiting for him to look at her and elaborate.

“The kid.” He rasped, flicking his eyes to her quickly before turning back to the large screen and pretending to watch it. “- Could take us a bit to… Make him. Might be that you’ll be disappointed when you get your period. If it takes us a few months… Or longer.”

Sansa couldn’t help but smile at his oddly nervous tone. And at the fact that he’d called their as yet non existent child -  _ him. _ \- As though it was a foregone conclusion that they’d one day have a son. Or as if he maybe secretly, maybe subconsciously, harboured some hope for a son in particular.

She also couldn’t help the flutter in her chest over the fact that he understood and cared that it could take time, and that there was potential for her to be disappointed if and when it didn’t happen quickly. - She knew that and was prepared for it to take time, she even understood that there was every chance that they might not be one of the lucky pairs who found success without help and outside interventions. But it was incredibly sweet of him to be concerned over her in that regard.

It made her love him just a little bit more… As her best friend _. And maybe just a little bit in a different and new way too._

It made her wonder about where his thoughts and feelings were, now that he’d had time to think on it some more, and now that things had changed so much between them.

“I know.” She smiled sheepishly and nosed at his shoulder a little, momentarily distracted by the combination of scents - sweat, fabric softener and deodorant - that clung to his soft shirt. “Are you still alright with all of this? Like will you be caught off guard if it happens fast? Or when it does full stop? And do you maybe  _ want  _ all this for yourself now too?”

She couldn’t help it. She had to know.

Sandor took his time thinking.

And he was thinking over how to respond, she could tell by the way his eyes changed, as if he was staring into his own mind. She could tell by the way his fingers resumed their picking at the now empty beer bottle in his hand. And she could also tell by the deep, even breaths he was taking.

He was a thinking man who didn’t bother to waste his words, and he was an honest man who didn’t care to sugarcoat them. She knew he was taking her questions seriously and she knew that she’d get his genuine thoughts when he was ready too.

“Never wanted to  _ settle down _ at all Birdy.” He admitted gruffly, turning his eyes to look down at her finally. “Not something I ever pictured for myself. You know that. Figured I’d spend my life drinking and saving what money I couldn’t drink - just so I could say I had more than my bastard brother ever would. The only other thing I wanted was to see him rot to death while paying for everything he’s done to hurt others, myself included.” She swallowed hard at the memories of him opening up about all of that. - His childhood, his awful brother… The pain he carried around with him. “But I am here. In the house I bought, in control of my drinking and my temper. I own my own business. And I’ve got you. - Someone who fucking cares if I live or die, and someone who thinks I’m worth something.”

“You are worth something… To me you’re worth everything Sandor… And all that you have is already worth more than  _ he _ could ever hope for. Especially considering he is exactly where he should be and where you’d hoped he would be… actually rotting away, waiting to die, while paying for all he’s done.”

“Aye.” He agreed. “And it’s not fucking about him anymore. I haven’t been living to hate that cunt for a lot of years now Sansa.  _ Because of you. _ So while I didn’t think I ever wanted this shit… Home, a woman, family… Kids… Guess I do want it now, because  _ you  _ showed me I can want it. And because it’s  _ with you.” _

She made an undignified noise in her throat, unable to contain the wave of emotion that his beautiful words brought forth, while being unwilling to truly let them out freely for fear of scaring Sweet Sandor away and bringing forth Grumpy, Growly Sandor.

He trusted her to hear him when he was vulnerable, but he hated  _ being vulnerable  _ full stop. And she’d learned over the years how best to keep the balance so that he continued to trust her to see and hear him when he was allowing it.

But what he’d said was so wonderful that she wanted to squeal and smile and hug him and even cry too. She wouldn’t… But she wanted to.

“Still not fucking sure about pushing my fucked up genes on a poor defenceless kid. And I’m still not sure why the fuck you want my grumpy, ugly old ass in your life at all, let alone in this way… But I don’t want to fucking share you with some cunt who isn’t worthy of ya, and there’s no cunt worthy enough anyway… Might make me a shit too, but I figure I wouldn’t much like anyone else knocking you up when I’ll be the one the kid calls Dad anyway… So may as well be my blood in my kids veins.”

Sansa gave in and let her squeal out, while at the same time lifting Stranger up and over onto the cushion beside her so she could dive into her wonderful, amazing, fantastic, bestest best friends lap, to wrap around him in a very necessary and very appropriate whole body hug.

She could and  _ should  _ reprimand him for the untrue and mean things he said about himself. But just this one time she would let them slide and let him have that, in light of smothering him for the nice and good things he said.

Sandor grunted and muttered something that sound suspiciously like  _ ‘crazy fucking bird’,  _ but she let that go too because he automatically wrapped his thick, wonderful, sexy arms around her and held her to his chest just as tightly as she held his neck with her arms and hips with her knees.

“Can I ask one more question?” She whispered softly, her heart pounding inside of her.

“Unless it’s: ‘can we fuck now’, the answer is fuck no. That’s enough fucking sharing for right bloody now.” He growled.

“I was actually going to ask if all of what you said and… With  _ other  _ things said and… Acted on… Are we-“

“Fucks sake!”

Sandor groaned loudly enough to interrupt her stuttering speech and actually smacked her ass.

He actually spanked her as if she was a naughty child or something, and she squealed again, this time equal parts shocked and amused and affronted.

“Don’t go getting worked up over bloody labeling what  _ we  _ are.  _ We are just us!  _ But with sex now… You’re my best friend, I fucking love you and you damned well know it. Now we sleep together and we’ll have a kid maybe sometime soon if we are lucky and our bits work together the right way, too. So no more chirping.”

“I love you too.” She breathed over his neck, burying her blushing, smiling face against his warm skin where he couldn’t see it and grumble more because of it. “As my best friend and one day hopefully, baby daddy too.” He grunted and she didn’t need to look to know he was glaring across the room over her words. “And I don’t really  _ know  _ for absolute certainty, because I’m not  _ allowed _ to name it… But I love you for that which is not to be spoken of too.”

“You drive me right buggering mad, you do girl… But I do too… What you said there… At the end.”

She let him slide with that. Instead preening inside, while enjoying the feel of his massive hands displaying a complete lack of the nerves that trembled behind his words, as they smoothed over and around the curves of her back, sides, shoulders and bottom in heavy, soothing and  _ loving  _ strokes.

She had the answers to the questions she had been driving herself crazy with since the afternoon before, and sure it was absolutely confronting that their relationship had changed and then changed and then changed again, in such a short period of time between her asking him to help her get pregnant, to being…  _ Whatever  _ they were  _ not  _ calling themselves in that very moment… But it just fit.

It just  _ worked.  _

It felt very much like her asking for his help had flicked a switch, and the lightbulb blinked on inside of them both. Illuminating the truth that maybe had  _ always  _ been right there.

They weren’t  _ just  _ best friends… They were  _ it  _ for each other.

She pulled back just enough to rest her temple against his, nuzzling playfully and making him huff at her like the grump he truly was.

“We can stop talking now if you like?” She teased.

“Thank fuck!” 

Sansa shrieked with laughter as he slapped her butt again and stood, hauling her up with him as if she weighed nothing at all, and he hadn’t recently overworked himself in the gym and then again helping her to lug boxes around.

“Don’t want to hear anything out of you for the next hour unless it’s  _ ‘harder’, ‘faster’, ‘please Sandor’, ‘just like that’, ‘I need your fantastic, big cock’  _ or  _ ‘stick it in my ass’.  _ Got it?”

“Seriously?” She hissed, slapping at his shoulder and gaping outrageously at everything - but mostly the  _ last thing,  _ he said.

Sandor laughed obnoxiously and shrugged. “Worth a shot... Don’t know if ya don’t ask, and all that.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings apply!
> 
> Mentions of childhood abuse and trauma. Mentions of menstruation including implications surrounding fertility, and also brief mention of period sex.
> 
> -Hopefully nothing too heavy, or detailed, but warnings still apply just in case.

Sandor swiped the towel he’d been rubbing his hair dry with over the fogged up mirror, slowly taking in his own reflection.

He certainly wasn’t a man prone to staring at himself, and he’d long since accepted that the image that stared back was far from handsome. But it was the face he’d always known, and he’d long ago come to terms with it being as good as he was going to get.

Short of covering a good portion of his face with tattoos, which he wasn’t about to do because he wasn’t a stupid cunt, there wasn’t anything more he could do.

It had been, and could have remained far worse, had he not received the extensive treatments and surgeries he had received in the months and even years that followed him being burned.

He wasn’t even sure he’d be alive to be staring at his ugly mug in the mirror in that very moment, if it weren’t for the public healthcare system not being completely bullshit, or for his grandparents and their determination to take responsibility for his recovery.

He didn’t have a single recollection of how his face looked and felt _before._ He had memories, vague though they were, of his childhood _pre-burning,_ but they were hazy. As he imagined most people’s memories of life before 6 years of age probably were. But for Sandor, when he looked back at any point, no matter how early on in his life, in his mind his face was either in the process of healing, or as it was once finally healed.

And not that he’d always appreciated it but he knew that what he had was a fucking vast improvement on what could have been.

Sure, he had a bald patch for a good inch and a half all the way around a fucked up and mangled ‘reconstructed’ ear, and a decent zig-zagged shaped scar that cleaved an unnatural part in his hair on one side. Plus half a fucking eyebrow one side and a weird jagged line that stopped his beard short before his mangled ear where he had no fucking sideburn. Not to mention the slight discolouration between the grafts and the skin that hadn’t scarred so badly as to need grafting.

But he didn’t look like the lovechild of Freddy Krueger and Two Face from Batman thanks to modern medicine and a good head of hair that covered the worst of it provided he kept it a bit longer.

Sandor leaned in closer and studied the good side of his face with more scrutiny.

He’d have never been a bloody pretty boy anyway. - He’d seen pictures, because his Grandmother had liked to keep albums, so he knew he’d been a cute kid. - Or as cute as a kid can be when he’s a veritable giant right from birth. But his features weren’t that of a man one would consider handsome, even without the scars.

His nose was big and hooked, and had obviously been broken numerous times. His eyebrows - even the half one - were thick and full over his heavyset prominent brow. His beard carried all the way to his chest to join up with the thick pelt that grew there, when left to grow as it pleased, though he didn’t allow it to get that bad most of the time. And honestly, his head was huge. _All_ of him was huge, but his head would look hilarious if it weren’t for the rest of his bulk.

He looked like his coward of a Father and his Cunt Brother.

Except his eyes and his smile. Thankfully he got those from his Mother. And thankfully Ellie had had those same traits too… So that was something.

But even without his scars, only a fool would consider him a good looking man. And with them - well he couldn’t exactly justify thinking poorly of her, but only his crazy Little Bird was blind enough _without alcohol_ to think it.

That was the point though.

That’s why he was standing in his bathroom, naked but for a towel sling low around his hips, staring so very intently at the face he had come to accept for what it was, as though he might see something else entirely.

His Crazy Little Birdy had sleepily mumbled something so ridiculous while nuzzling at his own sleeping face like she was a fucking cat or some such shit, and it had woken him and shocked him into serious thoughts. - Mostly about her sanity, and maybe a little bit about whether she needed to get her eyes checked.

She regularly said stupid shit about him being handsome and it was fairly dangerous for his health and his sanity, for him to speak to the reality of his looks in her company too. - She really fucking hated when he did… But he’d always assumed that she was talking more about his physique than anything. _That_ and accepting that at best, his face might be considered plain looking - if you could look past the scars.

Fuck! He’d had more chicks close their eyes, turn away or ask for him to take them from behind while fucking, than he could count. And the few who had the guts to look at him, he assumed were either too drunk to care - _like he was!_ Or maybe had some weird kink, or they were distracted enough by his body and his cock for it to not matter.

Yet Sansa looked at him. Sansa kissed him. Sansa smiled at him and petted him and _loved him._ Scars and all. - Not just for the body he worked hard on, or the cock that came naturally with a body as big as his… Though he _knew_ she bloody loved those things too!

Now he was coming to learn that she was genuine in her beliefs that he was handsome. If her crazy mumbling about loving his face and wanting to look at it forever, and wishing his _strong features_ on their future kids was any indication.

He didn’t get it. Not one fucking bit.

She loved him. He knew that. They’d been friends for so many years that love growing between them was just kind of a natural occurrence… At least _platonic love_ was a normal thing between friends - he assumed.

Yet thinking back on it, the only time she ever reacted poorly to being exposed to his scars was when they first met and he startled her like the cunt he was back then… Or when he misinterpreted her fear of his temper the first few dozen times their paths crossed - which had nothing to do with his scars at all, but him being an angry, drunk prick.

Even when he told her about Gregor flipping shit over him playing with his old toys and lighting the gas burner on the stove, under the fucking hot pan his old man had just been cooking bacon in, and shoving his face down in the fucking hot fat and holding him there until the naked flames and fat splatters caught his shirt and hair alight to go with his melting face, before the psycho fucker let go; she hadn’t been disgusted. - Full of heartbreak for him and an intoxicating amount of ice cold righteous rage at his brother - aye… But there was no disgust or judgement of him for having a fucked up face.

So for as much as he couldn’t bloody see it, and for as much as he hoped that her beautiful, smart and sweet genes out did his shitty genes when combining to make their kid? He supposed he had to accept that his Birdy was as blind as she was crazy, and genuinely saw him and felt for him and his ugly mug, as she said she did.

He shook his head and even glared at himself for good measure - annoyed, but oddly enough only a little bit, at his own buggering pubescent boy mooning and moaning.

He’d stopped caring about how his looks were perceived a while ago. And before that he’d stopped using his scars as a means to scare fuckers away from staring at him too. Both times his perception had changed significantly, Sansa had been a bit of a driving force. These days the best he could do for her, as his best friend and apparently as his lover now too, was clean himself up so that at least she wouldn’t be seen with a bloody slobby bastard, just a big scary, ugly one.

He could trim his beard and brush his hair, and shit. He could be at least _clean,_ and decently dressed, so that even with his hair tied back in the gym when he was working, the picture his fucked up face presented was no more shocking than the colourful, girly ‘Little Bird’ tat on his ribs might be if someone saw it peeking out of his shirts. And he supposed that from now on, he could stop pissing and moaning every time she said something stupid about how _handsome_ she thought him too. 

He could give her that.

Sandor huffed and rolled his eyes, giving up on whatever the fuck he was trying to do by staring at himself, and turning his attention to finishing up his morning cleanup.

He frowned and cocked his head, trying and failing to understand what in actual bloody hell the weird little pink rubbery cup thing on his bathroom counter was.

Obviously it was Sansa’s. He just couldn’t figure out what the fuck it was used for. Even poking at it and picking it up by the tiny little stick/stem thing on the bottom of it didn’t help shed light on what the fuck it was.

“Sandor! Put that - just give it here! Right now!” He dropped the offending _bathroom shot glass?_ And spun around, grunting as a streak of red hair and angry eyes and blushing, blistering, barely awake fury shoved around him to scoop up the _skin suction cup doohickey?_ From where he’d dropped it back to the counter. “I sterilised that! I forgot to put it away until I need it, but now I have to clean it again before I do!” She hissed and stomped back past him without another word, clutching her strange little cup thing to her chest like it was a ring and she, that weird little Gollum creature.

“Just got out of the shower Birdy, my hands are fucking clean! Your little bath time sippy cup is fucking fine!” 

He called back as she disappeared out of their bedroom door and down the hall, partly hoping that she’d yell back and tell him what he’d been toying with, and partly a bit afraid because unless his swimmers had been successful in the couple of weeks since they started she moved in and they started fucking, he had a sneaking suspicion she was about due to get her period. If her complaints of a sore back and adorable sulkiness the night before hadn’t warned him, that fucking crazy display would have. 

“It’s not a… My God Sandor!” Her waspish voice carried back down the hall and into the bathroom where he was still standing, making him wince.

_He was definitely stopping for flowers and chocolate on his way home from the gym! - maybe some cheesecake and lemon cakes and pastries too? Oh and that disgusting wine she seemingly needs when she bleeds too._ _Better to be safe than sorry… Especially being the first time since they started trying to knock her up._

He snorted at his own stupidity and closed his eyes in defeat, leaning into the counter and shaking his head as it twigged what the strange little cup was more than likely related to. He still had no blasted idea what it could possibly be for, but her reaction to him touching it made sense if it was somehow related to her period.

“Am I going to get yelled at if I ask what it _is_ then?”

“It’s menstrual cup you meat head!”

He couldn’t help the huff of laughter that slipped out over her calling him a meat head anymore than he could resist the temptation to try and find where she had gotten off to, in her angry little snit.

Her voice carried well enough, regardless of the fact that she was apparently behind the main bathrooms locked door.

He huffed another laugh and tapped on the door with a single knuckle, leaning into the frame and hoping like hell that she didn’t open it and attack him with her vicious little talons.

“So it goes up your twat?” He was really playing with fire here - _metaphorically speaking!_ \- But it was also pretty fucking funny, now that he had finally figured it out. “For the sake of me not accidentally impaling my cock on the weird little stem bit - does it stay up there the whole time or can you take it out?”

_“Sandor!”_ The door flew open in front of him to reveal a snarling, snapping Wolf of a woman.

“I ever tell you how fucking sexy you are when you’re piss-“

“Do. Not. Finish. That. Sentence.” She growled low and dangerous. He wasn’t at all ashamed to admit that while the rest of him was backing away to a safe distance, his cock was definitely reaching out for her, tenting his towel in the process. “You don’t need to worry about your cocks safety while I’m using my cup because we won’t be having sex until my period is over idiot! Now please _shut up about it!”_

Sandor sighed quietly and reached out to pull her roughly into his chest, having noted that he’d pushed too far and there was actually a sheen of tears glassing up her pretty eyes, indicating she was more upset than angry - though she was pretty bloody angry too.

He kissed her head in silent apology.

Now was not the time for him to point out that _from experience_ he knew they could still fuck without risking injuring her or some such shit, while she was bleeding. - If she was comfortable with it.

Apparently she was not comfortable with the idea.

He’d once fucked a chick until she walked bow legged while she was on her period - in the shower and on a towel on her bed - more than once. He hardly cared that it was a bit messier. Blood only bothered him if it wasn’t meant to be there. - The chick was horny and he was willing to oblige, and no one got hurt.

Ordinarily _now_ would not be the time for that conversation, because Sansa certainly didn’t appreciate the mess that came with sex as it was. She was only just coming to terms with understanding that she could enjoy fucking, regardless of the mess… But even more to the point - she had her _period_ , or was getting her period.

And she didn’t want to for another nine months.

“I’m sorry Birdy.” He kissed her head again and rubbed his hands up and down her back soothingly. “Want me to blow off work and stay home with you? I can rub your back or some shit? I’ve only got a session with Bolton today anyway… Don’t mind telling that creepy bastard to fuck off till tomorrow or something.”

“No, it’s alright.” She mumbled into his chest, obviously trying not to be too amused at his half assed bumbling offer.

He felt like an idiot for it. 

He felt a bit like a bastard for stirring her up too. 

And he felt a bit shit about the fact that he clearly fucking failed her this time around. - Not that he could help it, and not that she didn’t understand that it could take them a bit either. She bloody wouldn’t hold it against him even if he was somehow directly at fault, which he knew he wasn’t. But he was a bit disappointed for himself too. - Unexpected as that thought was.

“I don’t have my… _yet._ But-“

“But it’s coming.” He finished for her. “Figured that one out.”

She just nodded against his chest and wiggled her soft little body closer to his nearly naked, and far less aroused than it was previously, body.

“I’m alright though, I wasn’t expecting things to happen immediately. But it’s Saturday and I don’t have to work, and I want to just crawl back into bed with a hot water bottle because I am cramping, and Stranger if he’s in the mood for a cuddle, and I want to go back to sleep.”

Sandor tipped her head back gently, cupping around it with his big hands until she was blinking up at him with thankfully dry eyes.

“You got it Birdy. Get that sexy ass back to our bed and I’ll deal with the hot water bottle and the asshole cat too, so I can send him back to ya. Alright?”

She blinked at him shyly and blushed, her eyes giving away her thoughts on her, as they flickered momentarily to her own bedroom door.

“Nope. Don’t care that you are or will be bleeding girl. That bed in that room is about as useful as one of those tiny fucking pillows you’ve left all over the gods damned house! - All for show, but no bloody good for anything besides pissing me off. We sleep in _our bed_ unless I’ve pissed you off and get given the boot for whatever reason.” He mumbled quietly and dropped a needy kiss on her pretty lips. Ignoring both the sweet little smile that was pressing back who’s own lips, and the uncomfortable feelings that were barrelling into and over him with that exchange. “Bed Sansa.”

“Love you.” She whispered softly.

“Aye, you too.” He grumbled back before letting go and half turning her in the direction of his room so he could avoid the soft look he just knew she was giving him.

They’d been saying it more and more. Not that it was an unusual statement to be thrown out between them. She’d been telling him for years that she _loved him._ And he’d been saying it back for _almost_ as long. But until recently, it was just an acknowledgement of them being friends.

That’s not what it meant between them anymore, and he was still getting used to the idea that they were together _and_ that they were together enough for _those_ _words_ _and that feeling._

He scrubbed his face as he watched her walked back into _their bedroom,_ already hoping like hell that chatty Walda would be coming with her serial killer looking husband that morning. 

That girl was stuck to Bolton’s ass like a fucking barnacle for the most part, but it’d be just his bloody luck that he’d show without her for the first time, when he was feeling the need to beg her for some stinking help.

He didn’t know what flowers would say _‘sorry I’m an ass’_ as well as just _‘I’m sorry’_ in general, and _‘you’re too fuckin beautiful for this world, and my ugly ass, but I love you anyway.’_ too… But the Chatty Bolton girl would know and she wouldn’t bust his balls over asking like everyone else he knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I actually sat on this chapter for a while because I wasn’t sure how I felt about it... But ultimately I decided to go ahead so I could keep moving. Hopefully it works.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new character introduced and a new POV.

* * *

Catelyn Stark knew it was unseemly of her to indulge the sense of smug pride that overtook her, over seemingly being proven correct in her beliefs of her daughters relationship, the moment her sleepy faced girl answered the door to her. But she just couldn’t help herself.

Her darling girl might get away with brushing over the fact that she had obviously been sleeping the day away in a nightgown that was decidedly _not_ a nightgown, but rather a tee shirt and one that was obviously not even _hers._ The silly thing likely thought she could shrug it off as not meaning anything because it wouldn’t be the first time that Catelyn knew that she had stolen her _friends_ clothing. She couldn’t count all of the times she’d seen her in hooded sweatshirts that came to her knees over the years.

But she couldn’t hide the fact that she had emerged from what she knew to be _his_ bedroom. Unless he’d given Sansa the master bedroom.

Of course Catelyn would have to do a small amount of recon to gather proof if her daughter didn’t own up to living with him as a couple instead of just as roommates. - A simple stroll down the hall towards the guest bedrooms under the guise of using the bathroom should do the trick. - But from the direction of her daughters footsteps as she hurried to answer the knocking that had woken her, and the shadows that Catelyn could see moving behind the frosted glass of the front door, she knew that it was the master bedroom that she had emerged from.

There was no doubt in her mind that she’d find that not a single guests bedroom had been slept in recently, if they ever had been. While the master bed would be rumpled, from her daughter’s lazy morning lay in.

She had known for some time now that Sansa's future lay with the massive hulking man who had followed her home from Kings Landing all those years ago. And perhaps it had taken her some time to come around to accepting that reality, _and accepting Sandor for who he was also._ But it had taken Sansa and Sandor even longer to work it out for themselves too.

The man had been a drunken brute, with a foul mouth and an abhorrent temper and Catelyn had liked him about as much as she liked the vicious bitch he had worked for for so many years prior to his moving North.

Except that he had proven himself redeemable within the first weeks of taking up residence in the guesthouse of her family’s home. Whereas Cersei Lannister Baratheon would never be redeemable in any way, shape or form. So she had been forced to reassess.

Somewhere, somehow her sweet little lady had encouraged this terrifyingly beastly man who she had only ever known to follow Cersei Lannister Baratheons every command like a slave would his master, to straighten himself out and take control of his life.

And in doing so - in seeking advice from Ned on who to speak to about his personal issues, and in following through on that advice by reaching out to a brother of faith _of all things,_ Sandor Clegane had won Catelyn Stark over. He had shown her, albeit grudgingly, that underneath that unkempt and surly, snarling and frankly scary exterior, he was actually quite a lovely and loving man.

He was a little like an abused dog who had been kicked, starved and neglected from pup. But with a little attention and affection and honest to god’s friendship and support, from her daughter, and by extension her family, he had turned his life around. And better yet, he had done it of his own volition, not because Sansa or anyone else had made him do it.

That was the upside to he and Sansa taking so damned long to work out that they were meant to be together.

Time meant Sandor didn’t change everything about himself just to fit into Sansas life - or _to be worthy of her._ Or any such nonsense that put too much pressure on their relationship and too much pressure on Sansa to make it work if it wasn’t going to. Time meant Sandor got control of his drinking and his temper and processed whatever traumas led to such things for him, in his presumably dark and sad past, so that he could have a brighter future and a happier life _for himself._

Getting the girl that the silly fool didn’t even realise he desperately wanted, after all of that, was just a little bit of icing on the cake.

And for Catelyns sweet girl, she didn’t need him to be perfect. Catelyn could tell - _even when she didn’t want to_ \- that Sansa had picked him while he was at his worst. Or perhaps fate had picked him for her… Either way, from the moment that Sansa had gone South to live with Robert and Cersei, and subsequently fluttered her way into Sandors life with her bright eyes and dreamers smile, that big hairy, muscled, damaged, giant of a man had been _it_ for her.

Joff was more age appropriate, Tommen also - though a little younger. Even Jaime Lannister or perhaps Tyrion would have made more sense to Catelyn too. As would have Renly Baratheon if he weren’t gay. Or any number of young men she was at school with. But Sansa couldn’t stand Joff, Tom she saw as a little cousin in a way, and the Lannister brothers both of whom she had always enjoyed the company of, held no interest for her. Nor did any boy at school… Yet the enormous and mean, _bad boy_ of a security guard got under her skin whether she noticed it or not. Right from the first day he had growled at her.

Now it was time for them to admit that they had finally figured it out.

  
  


She smiled slyly at the confused, messy haired beauty before her and strolled in the open doorway, pausing long enough to press a loving kiss to the adorable handprint decorating her daughters face from where she had slept on it.

“I’m not about to have Sandor stumble out all sleepy and half dressed am I? If so, I would appreciate it if you’d slip back into the room and let him know I’m here first.”

Catelyn swallowed down the laugh that threatened to erupt at the combination of embarrassed and baffled emotions chasing each other through the familiar blue eyes that were still blinking at her so sleepily. It had been a long time since she’d seen her little girl so, but even as a small child and then as a teenager, Sansa had been a heavy sleeper who needed time to wake up properly before she was at full function.

She was far from lazy. She may not physically look it, but she was as much a Stark as the rest of her children, which meant she was every bit the workhorse her father was. Unlike her siblings however, Sansa didn’t tend to be as _physically_ active. For her it was her mind that was always going. So it took a little time to reboot itself after having to shut down enough for her to get some sleep.

“He’s not home.” Her daughter mumbled and almost scurried into the kitchen, likely after a cup of coffee big enough to chase the fuzz from her mind. And also to process her mothers words.

“I’m aware, because we agreed to have lunch together here so I could see how you were settling and we could catch up now that you are. You mentioned that he’d be at work today.” She smiled widely at the fact that she had so thrown her daughter by teasing her about her _best friend._ “I was playing with you darling… Heavens-“ Catelyn laughed at herself for actually blushing at the thought. “-If Sandor did come stumbling out without the shirt that you are presently wearing, to find me here apparently without warning, I’m not sure who’d have kittens faster, me or him!”

Sansa snorted as Catelyn deposited her handbag on the kitchen counter and took it upon herself to sit on the stool and watch her daughter prepare them a cuppa each.

“You’d have kittens. For a man as self conscious as he is about his scars, Sandor is as arrogant as they come about his body. Plus he’d find it hilarious to fluster you and you know it.”

Catelyn hummed in amusement and waited for her blushing daughter to look at her. It took no time at all for Sansa to realise that she hadn’t denied that it would even be a possibility for her to find them both in similar states of undress.

“He would. But in flustering me in such a manner I could easily turn the tables and fluster you both by asking after a certain tattoo that would be on full display, that you both think I don’t know about. _Little Bird.”_ She laughed as her daughter squeaked and splashed milk on the counter in shock. “A colourful _little bird_ always at his side and by his heart, protected and even hidden by one of those big arms, amongst the veritable sea of black and white and shaded _artworks_ that decorate the mans skin… _I wonder what the significance could be?”_

_“Mother!”_ Her daughter shrieked, staring at her wide eyed. 

Clearly she was shocked by her teasing. Which was hardly a surprise. Cat had never had the chance to tease Sansa about boys, because unlike Arya who just didn’t care, Sansa had had poor luck with them and she had always been sensitive about it.

“Oh please! Are we still playing the _‘we’re just friends’_ card? Am I to be on my way to being Grandma Cat before you two finally tell me you are together?” She couldn’t help herself but to _finally_ push for a verbal confirmation. She’d hung appropriate behaviour at the door when she noticed her daughter had hung being appropriately dressed to greet guests there also.

She couldn’t help but laugh at the shock in her darling girls eyes and the telltale blush that she gave her away. Catelyn couldn’t wait to tell Ned all about it. - And Arya! That girl had laughed like a hyena when she told her all about how Sandor had tried to break a boxing bag - and himself - when he realised the true depth of his feelings.

Of course Catelyn herself had been concerned that he had been so determined to break something because he was too blind to see it wasn’t _just him_ that felt that way. But still and all, she and her wild little wolf pup had shared quite a few laughs about Sansa and Sandor being stupid in love and too stupid to realise, in recent times.

Sansa didn’t answer her however, she simply blushed even harder, bit her lip and turned back to what she was doing. - A sure sign she was hiding something.

“Is there something you need to tell me Sansa?” She asked softly.

Her ‘mummy senses were tingling’ as Rickon would say… She hoped that they were so, _just_ because Sansa had yet to admit to her relationship. And _not_ because her daughter was forced into telling her now or soon thanks to an unexpected pregnancy.

_Not_ that she would object or mind or judge, if she did get to look forward to a teeny tiny grand baby soon, because heavens knows she’s been waiting for that for long enough too! But because she didn’t want something _forcing_ her daughter to finally admit where her heart lay. She wanted her to be able to get there for herself first. Even if it meant even more of Catelyns own patience being tested by the pair of fools… Then she could have many, many babies… And a wedding! 

_A dozen babies would be more than acceptable for Grandma Cat. Even if a few came before the wedding, she wouldn’t mind. But if they did, there would have to be a wedding too._

“Do I need to tell you something that you apparently already know and I’m not necessarily hiding?” Her daughter huffed, drawing her from her fantasy. “I mean, I get the impression that it’s been obvious for everyone else for a long time now, anyway.”

“That was a dramatic way of saying ‘Mama, Sandor and I are in a relationship now.’” She quipped. Even more amused than she already was, by the display of petulance.

Sansa rolled her eyes and even stared heavenward for a few beats, as if admitting it was truly frustrating for her.

Her darling girl had always been a little dramatic. And for as much as she had also always been a sweetheart and a people pleaser and honestly, her most well behaved and charming child, Sansa had always had a cutting tongue too. As a child she could carve chunks out of people with a smile on her face, and they didn’t even know she was doing it. She had long since abandoned hiding it, unless it served her to do so.

“Fine. Mama, Sandor and I are in a relationship now.” Her daughter flashed her a wicked little smile that was more like a face Arya would pull, than Sansa. “A _sexual relationship._ Actually-“ she clicked her fingers and let her eyes widen as if she was surprised by the thought she’d just had. - Which Catelyn knew she wasn’t. “If you were to ask Sandor, he’d tell you that we have always had a relationship and we are _just us,_ but with sex now... Lots and lots of deeply satisfying sex.”

Catelyn scoffed at her daughter’s carry on and wrapped her hands around the mug that had finally been sat in front of her in a bid to hide her own blush. - She _really_ didn’t need to imagine her darling girl in the throes of passion with her boyfriend… Even if she had curiously come around to thinking how striking and handsome of a couple two such physically different _and even characteristically different,_ people made. Ultimately, they were her children. One of her body and one she had decided to keep for her own when her daughter insisted on bringing him back time and time again. And no parent wants to imagine that their child is sexually active.

That didn’t mean she wasn’t going to fight to regain the upper hand in their little battle of shocking statements though. Proper behaviour had already been thrown to the wind this day.

“Well it’s about time _someone_ showed you a decent enough time _having sex_ to make you want to have _lots and lots_ of it.”

_“Mother!”_

She gave in and laughed at her girls horrified shriek and utterly gobsmacked look.

Not only had she gotten her answer and verbal confirmation for what she had in fact, already known! But she also won the battle of wits and maintained her hard won reputation for always knowing everything about her babies.

As if she hadn’t known that not a single one of her daughters unworthy suitors had ever pressed her buttons properly. She hadn’t wanted to know it and she had not previously allowed the knowledge to spill forth from the dark little corner of her mind where she had hidden that knowledge. And she was just having far too much fun teasing the girl.

“Honestly Darling. I’m just glad that it _is_ Sandor who could _rock your world_ -“

“Oh God stop!” She ignored her daughter’s embarrassed interruption and continued without missing a beat.

“-I’d have hated to have to turn into some sort of wicked dragon lady to scare away some wretched sap whose only fault was not being our Sandor.” She sipped at her steaming cuppa nonchalantly and even sighed with a little more dramatic flare than she would ordinarily allow. “A lifetime of mediocre sex, even with an amicable enough partner, would be as tragic as a lifetime of acceptable or even good sex with a man who you’ll never love… At least I imagine it would be! Your Fath-“

“No! Stop! Please I beg you! Stop!”

“Fine!” She conceded with a very Arya like cackle. She was enjoying this far too much. “I just mean that it would have been painful for you and Sandor, and all of us, to watch either of you genuinely try to make something work with anyone who wasn’t either of you.” Catelyn sighed softly and reached across the counter to pat her uncomfortable daughter’s hand where it gripped her own cup tightly. “Neither of you were ever going to find the road to true happiness with anyone else. Not in those you tried to date and force yourself to see as something real, no matter the lack of _passion_ between you, and not in those random women Sandor used and let himself be used by physically. The _only_ happy pathway for the two of you has always led _to each other.”_

Seeing the way her little girl lit up the whole kitchen - the whole house rather, with the shy happiness that rolled off of her told Catelyn everything she already knew and had known for a very long time. But more, it told her that finally her little girl knew it too. And seeing how being in love could magnify the internal light her little girl had always had, to be brighter, clearer and so devastatingly pure, made her want to both leap and weep with joy.

Sansa had a soul that was meant to be loved and cherished and perfectly matched and mirrored by another that was meant to be just as loved and cherished. She was someone that was made for a deep love that lasted the ages.

And she _finally_ had it. Rather, she finally realised that she’d always had it, right there in front of her, just waiting for her to see it and reach out for it and take it for her own.

Catelyn patted her hand again, knowing that neither of them had to speak to that particular discovery further.

“Now about those grand babies of mine! If the sex is so _good and plentiful-“_

The crashing sound right at the entryway of the kitchen startled her mid sentence and had her daughter jumping almost out of her skin. And Catelyn absolutely would have been embarrassed by the topic she had been teasing her daughter over if she wasn’t so thoroughly amused by the fact that Sandor Clegane - the biggest, meanest looking man she had ever seen in her life - except for _maybe_ that old bellowing lunatic that her husband called friend, Jon Umber, - was bashfully trying to pick up the one bag out of three he had dropped, whilst trying to not drop the other two, or the massive bouquet of flowers he was also carrying, all while desperately avoiding Catelyns eye.

“For me?” Her daughter whispered softly, with a wide, beautiful smile, as she reached for the flowers after taking the two not dropped bags and placing them on the counter while Sandor picked the contents of the third up.

“Aye. For being a shit this morning… The whole _sippy cup thing…_ And for the other thing… You weren’t feeling good.” He grumbled, still not looking at her, or even her daughter now. Catelyn watched with rapt fascination as the young man she had once so wrongfully assumed a _brute_ performed such a simple and sweet gesture, as bringing home flowers for his lady love _because he could_. “Didn’t know you weren’t home alone. Figured you were still in bed.”

“Oh don’t mind me Dear. Sansa apparently forgot about inviting me over for lunch because as you can see, she was still napping when I got here.” Catelyn offered hoping to diffuse the awkwardness lingering between them all. “Those flowers are positively stunning Sandor. And very sweet.”

Sansa threw a beaming smile at her over her shoulder and nodded to the open living area behind her in silent command to give them a minute, as Sandor mumbled and nodded in what she assumed was an embarrassed greeting. She was more than happy to give them a moment, no matter how adorable she found the poor mans bashfulness. 

She was mildly embarrassed to have been caught taunting her daughter in such an uncouth manner to start with. But she was also incredibly surprised and delighted by such an obvious display of love and devotion and _romance_ from Sandor of all people! She did _not_ want to ruin it more than she already had.

She absolutely wasn’t going to miss _hearing_ said moment though!

“What’s all this?” Her daughter inquired the moment she was across the open space.

“You always want all this shit when you're on your period.” He grumbled in that reluctant way of his. “So I stopped and grabbed it on my way home.”

“Sandor! That’s… Gods!”

Sandor grunted, drawing a smirk across Catelyns face. 

She knew full well, without looking, that her daughter had just jumped on him. Not that such a thing was indicative of the change in their relationship. Sansa had always been incredibly affectionate with the man, even when he had first moved North and didn’t know how to take it, despite their friendship blooming long before they came home from down South, indicating he’d withstood such things for some time already. So it was nothing new.

The telltale sound of kisses being shared was rather different though.

“S’nothing girl. Now get off me, I’m going to shower.”

“You showered at the gym. I can smell your body wash and your hair is still damp.”

Catelyn bit down on her laughter at her daughter’s cheek. Their private moment that she really shouldn’t be involving herself in, was just too cute, and so very Sansa and Sandor!

“Fine. I’m going to find your old man to bloody tell him that I love you so that I’ve got back up when Mother Stark and that violent little beast of a sister of yours decide to corner me, now you’ve told them both we are fucking… Not gunna tell _him_ we are fucking though. He can figure that shit out on his own.”

“Are you scared of my Mama, _Baby?”_

“Too fucking right I am! Not a stupid bastard, Birdy! She knows I’m sticking it in her Princess _good and plenty. -_ Least that’s what I heard when I walked in… Can’t risk the safety of my balls by hanging about just now.”

Catelyn bit down on her scoff not only at his fears but at his blatant and unnecessary innuendo, and risked sneaking a quick look as their low voices turned to muffled whispers and grumbles and giggles. It was incredibly rude and she would be ashamed of her actions later, but in that moment she believed herself justified as she had been waiting too many years to deny herself a glimpse at the beautiful change between her _princess_ and the foul mouthed but darling boy who had won her heart for his own.

She wasn’t at all surprised by how gently Sandor was holding her girl in his arms, or by the fact that he was gently rubbing at her lower back while they kissed and nuzzled at each other. He had always been so gentle and caring with Sansa. Even when she thought him nothing but a brute, she had noticed that he was soft - or at least _softer -_ in his approach to Sansa, than he was anyone else. It wasn’t even surprising to realise that such an action was likely a result of him knowing she had her period, if he was not only aware of her having it, but also buying her flowers and only the gods knew what else to help her through it.

What did surprise her however, was how similarly the pair before her resembled her and Ned when they were being affectionate.

She wasn’t as tall as Sansa and Ned obviously was nowhere near as tall and broad as Sandor either. Plus Ned didn’t have tattoos and Catelyn had never trotted about the house in nothing more than one of his shirts. But colouring wise and also in regards to the depth of love rolling off the pair, she could have been looking at herself and her own love many, many years ago, in that small moment.

Catelyn ordinarily would head out, understanding that it would be rude to not only continue to eavesdrop on and actively watch such a private moment between lovers. Not to mention the fact that Sandor had obviously come home with the intention of spoiling Sansa. Not only with gifts but with care. And now he felt as if he was being evicted from his own home to accommodate her visit with her daughter.

But she knew Sandor. He’d object if she did. And nothing she or her daughter could say would make him understand that he wasn’t rudely running her off because he was presently uncomfortable with her presence in his home. So she knew it was best to let him decide how to navigate the moment.

“Right. I’m off. Call if you want anything else before I come home.” Sandors low voice snapped her back to attention again, and she took it as an invitation to approach them anew.

“Are you sure? You can join Mama and me, or we can go out on the back patio and let you have space?” Her darling girl offered.

“Nope. Visit with your Mama, Sansa. I’ll be back later, just let me know if you need me.” She smiled at him pressing another kiss to her daughters mouth and then her forehead before pulling back and looking over at her awkwardly. “Cat. Nice to see you.” He nodded. Almost as if he was trying to convince himself that wasn’t a lie.

She bit down on the laugh that wanted to come out and stepped around the counter to lean up and kiss the darling mans cheek. “And you my boy.”

She stepped back and grinned at his uncomfortable look. “Remember your Mother Stark the next time you go visiting whatever florist is responsible for these stunning flowers, hmm?” She teased and waved at the elaborate bouquet. “Might be that the rest of my sons and even my husband will be forced to up their game and show such some appreciation for the important women in their lives if they see you so thoroughly thwarting them in that game!”

“Hardly winning if I’m cheating.” He shrugged. “Walda goes and gets them for me. Damn woman likes running my bloody credit card up for fuc- for flowers.” 

He cleared his throat and then bent and kissed her daughter again, eyeing Catelyns amused smile curiously as he pulled away and then he turned and walked out, calling out over his shoulder to say goodbye and calling for the cat to join him as he did so.

Her daughter started giggling the moment they heard the truck start up out the front. The same truck they hadn’t heard pulling up to begin with! Sansas laughter set her off right along with her. 

She had never considered herself a particularly scary woman. Not really. She was protective of her children and of her husband, as all good mothers and wives were. But it amused her that Sandor, the giant that she had considered to be just another one of her children for some years now, was so fearful of her _gelding him_ for having the hide to love the daughter that she actually hoped he would marry, that he practically ran out his own front door to escape her.

And it amused her even more to get home that afternoon and discover that that fear was genuine. As indicated by his having taken her words to heart and hand delivered a lovely bouquet of flowers to her own kitchen counter, much to her husband's amusement and confusion, when he popped in to actually tell Ned that he was in love with Sansa and that they were together now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mothers know best! And they know everything!


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a wee reminder that The Hound is still very much a part of Sandor Clegane. 
> 
> Also a second update so fast? Why the hell not lol. Enjoy!

“So… Officially dating my sister now are you?”

Sandor blinked over his shoulder at the youngest Stark. If it weren’t for the skinny runt of a kids mildly amusing attempts at being menacing, he’d have been annoyed at the interruption.

Not that it was his workout that was being interrupted with unnecessary gossip, but the client he happened to be spotting on the bouldering wall was a fucking loud mouth who gossiped more than an old woman with nothing better to do. What was worse, the crazy fucker knew the Starks well because he was friends with Jon, and he seemed to think that meant he was Sandors friend too.

Rickon popping up beside him while he was working with Tormund, to discuss his relationship with Sansa was quite possibly one of his worst nightmares. Almost as bad as walking in to find Sansa and Mother Stark discussing his and Sansas _good and plentiful_ sex life had been, just a few days ago. Or his awkward conversation with Ned about them being together after that horrifying incident.

Thankfully the big ginger cunt was more focused on navigating an overhang and wasn’t actually paying attention in that particular moment.

“Not the word I’d use. But aye, we are together. Now fuck off pup, I’m working.” He growled low enough that he hoped Tormund would continue to miss the conversation.

“You’re always working and it’s Tor. He’s not going to fall so you’re basically doing nothing but standing here staring at his ass.” The little shit cackled, just like the other evil little Stark who liked to follow him around like a bad smell, taunting and yapping at him. “Mama is so happy. Says you two are _in love_ and that you’ll be giving her grand kids soon. So I’d call it dating.”

“You’re a kid. To you, sticking your tongue down the throat of a girl five minutes older than you constitutes you ‘ _getting lucky with an older woman’._ You don’t know shit about _dating.”_

Sandor rolled his eyes at the idiot boys whoop of agreement to his ‘older woman’ comment, and turned his attention back to the wildling crawling his way up and over the lower climbing wall like a damned squirrel up a tree. 

Rick wasn’t wrong in his assessment that the man wouldn’t fall, but the fact remained that he was bouldering and it was a safety issue. Thanks to the lack of harnesses used for the activity, spotters were imperative. And it just so happened that Tormund Giantsbane was a big bastard. A big bastard who needed a big spotter, just in case. Unfortunately for Sandor that meant he got the job whenever his larger framed employees were caught up with other jobs.

“You didn’t deny the being _in love_ and having _babies_ part.” Rick almost sing-songed at him, sounding annoyingly like his pretty sister.

The pretty sister that he was trying to tack the word ‘dating’ to, along with Sandor.

The pretty sister that Sandor was living with, sleeping with, fucking blind whenever he could and also actually the sister Sandor did in fact bloody _love._

There was no point denying any of that though. He hadn’t put it quite the same way the kid did, but he was in love with her and they were trying to have a kid. Plus he really didn’t want the ginger fucker whose ass he was currently staring at hearing them talking about that.

If the kid stuck around for the training he was supposed to be having with Sandor, once Tormund moved on from the climbing walls, he was going to work him in the ring until he threw up for his shit.

Cheeky little fucker deserved it.

“She’s happy but? You are making her happy?” The kid tried a different tack.

“Aye kid. She’s happy. Ask her if you want.” He grumbled in concession. He could give him that.

Sandor wouldn’t horrify the kid and tell him that his sister seemed _happiest_ when she was climbing _him_ like a squirrel up a tree. And when he had her shaking and crying out because he was balls deep in her cunt, hitting all her sweet spots. Which she was doing and he was doing, far more often than he could have ever expected. - It was like he’d burst a banked up dam and now she knew she could enjoy fucking, the girl couldn’t get enough of having his dick in her. 

He wouldn’t tell Rick that though, for two reasons, the first was that he _liked_ being balls deep in her and wouldn’t risk her cutting him off for pissing her off by telling her baby brother that. And the second was that he could admit that he was impressed by Rick having the spine to ask him outright. - Even if he was being fucking annoying about it. Especially when he knew he was getting in the boxing ring with him just after.

“And you won’t hurt her.” 

Sandor snorted at the growling command. It wasn’t a fucking question. The kid wasn’t _asking him_ to not hurt his sister, he was ordering him not to hurt her.

He wasn’t insulted exactly. More impressed and amused than anything. It wasn’t like he needed to be told to treat her right - he’d been the one scaring fuckers away from her for wanting between her legs for years now. But he was pleased that someone had taken over for him there, now that he was the fucker wanting between her legs.

Except for the fact that the baby of the family was hardly fucking scary.

“I admire the attempt boy. But I’m three times your size and trained and experienced in kicking shit out of people. Plus I’ve lived a lifetime of pain. There’s only one way someone hurts me kid, and that’s by hurting my Little Bird. So don’t you fucking worry none about me being the bastard who does.”

“Everybody has to sleep at some point, and I’m not above attacking someone when they are, if I have to. Plus she loves you so hurting her is easier for you than for any other bastard, Sandor.”

Sandor chuckled darkly to himself. The idea that this kid would willingly go at a man when he had no chance to fight back, would horrify most people. - Not him. Sandor was impressed that he’d have the balls to get around any disadvantage he might face to deal with his sisters problems.

He’d have expected that sort of shit from The Wolf Bitch. In fact he’d expected this _friendly warning_ conversation from her, and had yet to receive more than a fist bump and an order to _give her a good dicking, and many orgasms._ As if he needed to be told to do that.

Yet it was little Rick who he’d watched grow up from a snot nosed little shit who was out of control, to almost a man who was still pretty out of control, but at least he no longer ran naked through the wolfswood and bit people when he was pissed. Hell, he’d been training him in the boxing ring since the day his gym opened in the hopes of channeling some of his fucking energy.

He’d like to think the kids threats were a bit of vengeance for all the times he smacked him around the ears with the training pads. 

But he knew Rick. 

The kid loved Sansa more than he loved anyone else. Even his own parents. Because it was Sansa who gave him all the attention he wanted growing up.

The threats were coming from a place of genuine concern, because he was right. Sandor was the bastard most capable of hurting Sansa because for some stupid bloody reason she decided she loved him. He always had been, because he was always the only man she had any real time for.

“Tell you what kid. I hurt her, it’ll hurt me a lot sight fucking worse to start with. But if by some fucking bullshit bad luck I do? I will let you hurt me without fighting back… Fuck! I’ll even give you whatever weapons you want, to do it. Deal?”

Sandor held his hand out and nodded, making sure the boy knew he was fucking serious. Rickon shook his hand, and threw himself at him for a one armed hug quickly before pulling back with a smug looking bloody grin across his pimply, peach fuzzed, kid face.

“Glad we settled that brother! Now I’ll tell you I’m happy about it!” Rickon laughed and twirled about to stand beside him in a mirror of his own stance, and watched Tormund as he worked his way along a new route. “You know I hated you when you came home with Sans?” He cocked a brow and waited while the kid snickered to himself over apparently hating him years ago. “I thought you were her boyfriend then, and I didn’t want her to ever have a boyfriend because that would mean she had less time for me.”

“Aye. I figured that was why. Explains why you fucking bit me so many times too. Feral little fucker you were.”

Rickon burst out laughing beside him, drawing more than a few eyes to them including the crazy eyes of the mad fucker clinging to the wall above them.

“You know I still don’t think Mama knows it was you who broke me of that habit, or _how_ you did it.”

Sandor grunted and crossed his arms over his chest, remembering that moment quite clearly and rather fondly too, while keeping his eyes on the madman who was now too focused on them and not focused enough on his holds.

“What the fuck did you expect to happen when you bit a dog… Couldn’t fucking bite you back in front of Mother Stark, but that’s the only reason you got away with biting me more than once kid…Had to wait until she wasn’t looking.” He grinned as the kid roared with laughter again, and again turned his focus back on the man above him.

“You fall on me because you’re too busy listening to other people talking, I’ll ban you from climbing my walls until after you get back from your trip to The Wall and up North, Bear fucker.” He called out to the idiot.

Sandor cursed and stepped forward, braced and ready to catch or redirect the fall of the fool, as he stupidly boomed his own laugh while over extending and reaching for the top from too far down, and somehow managing to half leap, catch the top and swing that big fucking hulking form up and around to sit atop the bouldering wall, dangling his legs as if he hadn’t just taking a very fucking dangerous risk in Sandors gym, in doing so.

“I won’t fall but you’d catch me if I did Hound. No way you’d let a mate fall and hurt himself in here.” _There the fucker goes, assuming they are friends again_. “Now tell me, how is it that you’re fucking my fellow fire kissed angel, but you’re still such a cranky fucker?” He growled low in warning, which only served to make the idiot laugh. Fucking prick had no sense of self preservation. “Not everyone is lucky enough to earn the heart of a redhead and even less get to love a redheaded Woman of The North. You should be the happiest fucker there is.”

“Was just fucking peachy till you started hopping about like a fucking mountain goat you dumb cunt.” He bellowed, planting his clenched fists into his wide hips in a bid to get control of his quickly spiralling temper. 

He wasn’t pissed about the dickhead talking about Sansa. Though it did bloody annoy him, Tormund wasn’t wrong to call him lucky or point out he should be happy to be with Sansa. He fucking knew that. And for as much as the buggering crazy bear fucking bastard annoyed the shit out of him, he was actually the friend he claimed to be - sort of. They were both tied to The Starks at least and he sometimes liked the guy. So he was closer than most to being a friend.

No. What sent him barrelling rapidly towards his _release The Hound_ temper limit was the fucking careless and unsafe behaviour in his fucking gym.

“You can hurt yourself all you fucking like anywhere but here you ginger haired cocksucker! But pull that shit in here again, where I’m liable if you fall on your fat fucking head and die, I’ll drag your crazy ass into the ring and introduce you the _real hound.”_ He roared, only mildly satisfied to see the mans eyes widening in surprise. “Trust me you dumb cunt. _This_ _is me being nice._ The only one ‘round here who’s ever seen just how cranky I _can_ be - is Sansa. So don’t try your fucking luck again because this ain’t even close to as bad as it can get.”

“Giantsbane get off that wall and Gendry will get you a harness for the big wall. Bouldering is down for the rest of the day. The rest of you assholes get back to it or fuck off home for the day if you’re done.” The Little Wolfs roar filled the massive room he hadn’t even realised had gone completely silent after he had yelled at Tor. Thankfully the little bitch had the brass to take over while everyone else was apparently too shit scared of him raising his voice. “Hound, you’ve got Rick in the ring for training in half an hour, you good?”

The small hand that landed on his shoulder was oddly gentle, which pulled him out of the haze of anger faster than anything else might have besides either Sansa or Stranger. More because it was odd to think anything Arya did could possibly be done gently.

He grunted in acknowledgment and nodded, even went so far as to pat the tiny hand in thanks.

He didn’t need to speak, she knew she did good and she knew he wasn’t really as angry as the rest of the cowardly fuckers around them thought.

“For what it’s worth, I was going to rip him when he got down if you didn’t. Dumb shit knows _he_ can physically do crap like that because he’s been climbing walls and actual cliff faces since he could walk. But seeing him do it in here could encourage amateurs to try it and we can’t have stupidity like that here.” He met the girls grey eyes evenly, nodding in agreement with her assessment. It was curious that it directly reflected his own. “Everyone knows how seriously you take safety here Big Guy. Now they really fucking know it. And now they also know _The Hound_ will fucking tear them a new asshole in front of everyone if they are being unsafe… Even his friends.” She grinned wickedly at him and nodded to her smirking brother on his other side. “Get in the ring with your girls little brother after that and show your patience, they’ll also know that you are in full control of _The Real Hound_ which makes the threat of it even more terrifying.”

He snorted rudely and shoved both of them roughly, then laughed at their attempts at a duel assault to get him back. 

It wasn’t his fault they were both puny and almost fell on their asses from a little shove.

“Fuck off both of ya. Arya get Rick warming up. Ring is free now so we may as well get started as soon as he’s ready. I’ll go check on Stranger and grab my gear now.”

It wasn’t until he was in his office that he come to the realisation that the little bitch had well and truly made herself irreplaceable around his gym. 

He knew she was his hardest worker and the only one who put in as many hours there as he did. And he knew she not only helped out everywhere, including with his paperwork at times, but she occasionally covered for others too without needing to be asked, even him.

When she had started there he had compensated her work ethic by paying her full trainers wages despite her only being his best friends kid sister who went ahead and filled out her own employment paperwork without his knowledge and tricked him into signing it for her. Since then she had become an accredited personal trainer and had taken on most of his self defence classes as well, utilising her own mixed martial arts training to develop her own program that was unique to his gym.

In that moment he realised that the little shit had gone and carved out the spot directly below him in the gyms hierarchy, for herself. And she was doing a fucking good job of the position she’d made for herself too, all without his thanks.

“Fuck.”

He’d have to fucking promote her properly - give her an actual position above everyone but him as owner and manager. And give her the pay rise to match it.

Worse yet, he couldn’t just do it and let her work it out on her own… He’d have to actually tell her.

And that was going to fucking suck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Teaching an old dog new tricks doesn’t necessarily take away his old ones! Just because he’s a gentle giant for the most part when it comes to Sansa and subsequently the other women in his life, doesn’t mean he’s not still a mean bugger with a bad temper and a foul mouth!!
> 
> Let me know what you think.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW warning!

“What would you do if I told you that I’m not wearing underwear, and I really… want you… right now?”

The intense look Sandor shot her for her whispered words was almost enough to make her regret taking her panties off before walking into his packed out gym.

The risk of her not being able to control the moisture rapidly building in her parts, and keep it from slipping down her thighs and possibly becoming noticeable to anyone looking, was frankly terrifying. 

She had been struggling with it since she walked in to find her best friend turned lover shiny with sweat, sporting his boxing gear and unusually shirtless from her baby brother having accidentally ripped the one he had been wearing early on in their training session. 

He looked delicious and the giant ass damned well knew it too, if the way he had grinned when he barked at Rick to hit the showers while jumping out of the ring to meet her on the floor was any indication.

At least if she’d been wearing her panties the satin and lace could have caught and soaked up some of her arousal and she wouldn’t be clenching so hard, which was really only making it worse.

“Still bleeding?” He cocked a brow in question.

Sansa huffed a laugh at such a crudely worded question, and at the fact that he would think she’d go without underwear if she was and shook her head slowly, leaning in. She feared that one of the many sets of eyes that kept flicking back to them, might be attached to a set of ears that were also too interested in her and her insanely sexy companion, for her comfort or appreciation. She did not want to be overheard, even if it was obvious that they were flirting.

Seeing eyes lingering on what was hers, just because it was so obviously on display, also did not help her _downstairs_ problems. If anything it made it even worse, because of the underlying desire to stake her claim.

Something which might ordinarily seem utterly ludicrous to her. Except that she was being needy and except that everything was just different with Sandor than it was with any of the men she had been with, and different again to how things used to be with her and Sandor too.

“Finished this morning.” She whispered and shot him a sly little smile, hoping to all the gods in existence that he’d take the hint and not make her speak to what she wanted out loud. “I’m here to pick Rick up because he’s staying with us tonight and I thought you’d be too late finishing tonight, for him to eat at a normal time.” She finished meaningfully.

Sandor smirked so damned arrogantly that she almost wanted to hit him for it. Right in that stupid handsome face. Clearly he understood her hints. He leaned back and crossed his bulging arms in front of himself, drawing her eyes right to the expanse of his amazing uncovered chest.

“I’ve got another kid coming in at six and Rick won’t be in that shower forever.”

“So you aren’t busy right now…Or for the next fifteen minutes or so?” She blinked up at him through her lashes. Desperately hoping he’d play along _without_ making her ask him outright to _‘please take her to his office and fuck her damned brains out because it has been nearly a week and she needs him right this very second.’_

When she had realised her period had finished she had been irrationally excited to actually get to have sex again. As odd as that was for her. She had meant to wait until they were home and in bed that night before acting on that urge though. 

That was before her Dad asked her to let Rick stay over because her Mama was out of town helping her Grandpa with something for her Aunt Lysa and her Dad had a business dinner he couldn’t get out of. Meaning he wouldn’t be home to make sure Rick ate a healthy dinner and went to bed at a reasonable time, which he needed to do because it was a school night.

Rick couldn’t be trusted on his own no matter that he was old enough at fifteen, in theory, to be home alone. So Sansa would have to sacrifice her first night back _on the Sandor saddle,_ so to speak, to babysit her little brother.

It had seemed like such a good alternative solution, to tempt Sandor into having sex with her in his office when she picked Rick up, to make up for the fact that she didn’t want to risk having Rickon hear them at it, at home later in the night.

Which was illogical in retrospect. 

Anyone could hear them at the gym, or even potentially walk in on them, including Rick!

But she hadn’t cared enough to think about how crazy she was being when she giggled her way through pulling her panties off in the car before stepping into the Gym itself.

Then she had laid eyes on Sandor. And she had seen all of the other women who were drooling over his incredible body too, and she turned into some sort of beast that wanted to mark her territory. 

And now she was too turned on to stop this madness, and Sandor was grinning at her like he could read her every single thought.

“Depends on how good you are at convincing me to bend you over my desk, Birdy.” He bent low enough to huff his words over her ear with that sexy, gravelly voice of his. “Think you might be desperate enough for my cock to beg? I reckon you are girl… Can smell how wet you are from here, over my own stink too.” He even sniffed at her for added effect. “You’re twitching and aching for me, aren’t you Sansa?”

As if she needed him to make any extra effort in that moment. She was bloody dripping, she was so aroused. His teasing was only going to make it unbearable if he didn’t stop. It didn’t even matter that she was embarrassed, because the arousal was her first, and by far, more pressing problem.

She whined pathetically, but gave in without a fight because at least _she_ hadn’t had to say it. Sandor had said it for her.

“Please.” She mouthed and pouted, her parts twitching like mad as he chuckled and spun her around bodily with his still strapped hands laying heavy on her shoulders.

“Always such a polite Little Bird, chirping your _pleases_ and _thank yous_.” He laughed quietly as she shuddered at the feel of his breath at the back of her neck with how closely he was walking with her. “How could a man say no to that?”

“Arya!” He barked across the room. “Floors yours. Tell Rick to wait out here for Sansa. I’ll be back out before my next client gets here.”

“Get- _got_ it boss man!” 

Sansa squeaked indignantly and glared at both her winking sister across the room, and her grinning lover over her shoulder. They may as well have just yelled _‘I’m going to have sex.’_ And _‘fist bump friend, enjoy’..._ What they did say was no less subtle!

Before she could blink she was in his office, pressed to the closed and locked door by a big, beautifully masculine and sweaty man, and her skirt was around her waist.

“Desk or door, you needy bloody thing?” He growled into her neck, biting down and groaning right along with her as his finger slipped easily into her folds. “Fuck me Birdy! You’re drenched.”

“I’m aware... Care to clean that up for me?” She sassed between whines and gasps as he rubbed at her roughly with his fingers.

“Fuck. Door it is. _For now.”_

Sandor dropped to his knees before her and threw her left leg over his shoulder as his face pushed in close to where she was practically throbbing. “My beard is going to smell like you till I get home, so your brother’s probably going to hear us anyway. Fucked if I won’t need you again after smelling you for hours, girl.” He growled and rubbed his beard all over her center as he spoke, driving her mad with need before finally diving straight in. Sandor moaned and grunted as he lapped, sucked and fucked her with his tongue, making her moan and whimper.

“I’ll just return _this_ favour tonight.” She whined and wiggled against his iron grip hold on her hips. Sensations were slamming over her every nerve like little explosions of fireworks, making her restless in her search for completion. “I’m the loud one out of us. He won’t hear us if I’m not coming.”

“Won’t say no to getting my cock sucked, but you’ll be coming again tonight. That I can fucking guarantee. So you’ll just have to be quiet about it for a change.” He answered quickly between laps and sucks, but lips and warm breath brushing over her sensitive skin, making her tingle delightfully.

Sansa panted and groaned as he doubled down and focused on his task. She was so swollen and sensitive and with the added pleasure of the squelching _wet_ sounds, coupled with Sandors appreciative feasting sounds, it was just too much for her to withstand any further. 

Within seconds she was crying out and biting her own hand in a bid to keep from screaming, while her legs shook and her core clenched and quivered with release.

Sandor held her up enough to guide her to his desk, but instead of bending her over it as he had said he would, he cleared a space enough quickly, to lay her down on her back and then dropped his gym shorts without fanfare and stepped between her legs.

“I’ll never get any fucking work done now I’ve seen you laying there like this. Bloody hell, Little Bird! You’ll be the death of me!” He growled and laid himself over her, his forearms pressing into the hard wooden surface either side of her head. “Legs around me, this won’t take very bloody long.”

The relief she felt as Sandor pushed into her, swiftly filling her to bursting, was indescribable. 

Before sleeping with him, she had no idea that she could want it so badly. Before sleeping with Sandor, she didn’t even know she could get as wet and needy as she had been leading up to that moment, either.

Yet there she was, groaning in relief like an animal, as he filled her. Grunting with every single thrust and slam of his hips into hers, while his desk thumped and dragged over the floor with their rhythm.

She had hated the mess of sex so much that for so long she didn’t think there was a pay off that made it worth it. Yet there she was, pulling Sandors face to hers and driving her tongue into his mouth while his beard practically shimmered with her juices. Her drenched thighs were slipping their hold on his hips, and drips of her fluids rolled down between her cheeks, likely making a mess under her too. And she didn’t care.

She understood the pay off now. She really, really did.

“Faster. Please Sandor. Please baby. I need-“

“Jesus fuck! That’s it, beg me for it.” He muttered and slammed into her faster, just as she had asked.

Sandors hand shot out and covered her mouth as her moans and pants turned to wails and throaty screams. 

He dropped his weight just enough for his pubic bone to press and rub at her clit while he pumped harder and faster into her, driving her over the edge and into the wonderful sea of physical bliss that she had been so desperate for.

“Fucking hell!” Sandor cursed long and low, as if the words were dragged up from his toes, as stiffened, biting down on her shoulder as he followed her over, coming deep inside of her with heavy, hot bursts and almost painful, shuddering thrusts. 

He dropped his weight on top of her and wiggled an arm between her back and the desk, to hold her tight and in place, while they both come back to themselves and caught their breath.

Sansa sighed and turned her head to catch her lovers eye, as he chuckled breathlessly and kissed the round of her shoulder before propping himself up a bit, to look down at her. He pointed to the roof and she noticed the music coming from outside of his office.

“Seems your sister is protecting her own ears. Cheeky bitch has turned the music up out on the floor.” Sansa groaned in embarrassment. But Sandor just laughed and leaned down to steal a soft kiss, sucking gently at her bottom lip. “Wanna tell me how you managed to get so worked up, Birdy?” She closed the small gap he had made to speak and returned his kiss with one of her own in a bid to prolong having to admit all to him. “Not bloody complaining. That was fucking fantastic. Sexy as hell, if I’m being honest. Just curious to know what’s got into you… You know, because my crazy bird of a best friend turned lover, who _used_ to claim to hate sex, is now apparently a bit of sex fiend who jumps me at work… Gotta say I like it, but humour me with the _why’s_ anyway, Birdy.”

Sansa shrugged sheepishly and let her hands stroke over his back and shoulders lazily while she took in his lovely smile and soft eyes.

“I missed… The last few days, we haven’t been able to sleep together… I mean we _sleep,_ but we don’t… We haven’t had sex… and now we can again. I was looking forward to getting to do so tonight.” She rolled her eyes at his smug smile and sighed as she continued. “But then Dad asked if Rick could sleepover and I freaked out about the possibility of him _hearing me_. So I somehow rationalised this as being the better idea.” She scrunched her nose at his bark of laughter.

“Well? I could tell ya, that now a fucking gym full of people have probably worked out we are fucking instead of just your brother working it out, while we’re in the privacy of our home... Your sister at least knows and she’s probably told Rick too, just to be a bitch… But _if_ I tell ya that, you’ll never do it again and that would be a fucking tragedy… So just this once I’m going to lie to you Birdy, and tell you that you were very stealthy and no one suspects a bloody thing… Which is just proof that we can pull off a _stealthy_ fuck again tonight too. The kid won’t hear you when you scream my name as you come, because you are a right talented little sex ninja.”

Sansa gave in and laughed at his cheek, covering her face with her hands as he pushed himself up off of her and tugged his pants back up before flopping into his desk chair to laugh with her. 

“Fuck! _If_ I can get hard again after what you just did to me girl, I promise to stuff socks or tissues or something in the boys ears, just to be on the safe side!” Sansa groaned as he laughed at her again. “ _And_ I will look at securing my desk better too, so it’s not so fucking distracting next time you surprise me at work, with sex on your mind.”

“Don’t you have a client coming now?” She huffed, trying to change the subject of his _future office plans,_ and to distract from her extreme embarrassment as she sat up to wiggle her skirt down.

Sandor held out a box of tissues and grinned smugly at her discomfort over finding _so much mess_ between her thighs and on the desk, before she could get the tight material down beyond her hips.

“Aye. The kid and his Mother will be out there now. But they can wait until I catch my breath and wash up.” He sniffed and rubbed at his beard like a right vulgar beast, and laughed at her disgusted and mortified glare. “Better not go out looking like I’ve just been thoroughly fucked I suppose. This next kid is only twelve and that’s probably not appropriate, that I greet him smelling like your cunt, and looking like I’ve been fighting a wildcat.” She hissed and slapped at him, making him laugh even more. “Lucky I’ve got a bathroom in here I’d say. We can clean up before anyone has a chance to see us.”

Sansa sighed in relief. 

It was her doing, she had to own that much at least. And it was embarrassing. But then, she had known it would be and did it anyway because she was so desperate for him. So it was worth it, even if everyone knew and stared when she eventually made it back out of Sandors office, it would still be worth it.

It had been amazing. Even if it was a bit gross with how much moisture she had pent up, too. She had no real complaints now that her lady bits had settled down again.

“Go on. I’ll clean up after you and get Stranger ready to go home with me, before I come out.”

Sandor nodded in thanks and leaned over her where she still sat on his desk as he stood, cupping her face in his massive hands, and kissing her deeply. “I love you, you know that, you crazy little woman?” She smiled shyly against his lips and pulled back enough to study the vulnerability in his eyes. “Aye girl. _Like that._ That’s what I mean.”

“I love you, too.” She whispered softly, utterly spellbound by the seriousness of the moment, and by the truth of it in his eyes. 

“Apparently I love you so much that I just jumped you at work and couldn’t care less that everybody in the whole of The North will likely know what I did by dinner time tomorrow!” 

She teased, breaking the heaviness with a bit of humour, more so for his sake than hers because it was clear he was becoming uncomfortable about it all.

“Bugger all of ‘em.” He growled in an oddly playful way, obviously relieved by the change in tone of their conversation. “None of their business when or where we fuck.”

  
  


——————

It wasn’t necessarily intended, but Sandor had walked out before her, staggering their departures, which did help her confidence in heading out herself. 

She just knew that everyone out there would _know,_ if they had walked out together.

Thankfully nobody stared at her when she and Stranger stepped back out on the floor. Nobody but a smirking Arya across the room and a snickering Rickon, who was leaning into the wall beside the entry to the back hall, where she had just come from.

And while she was a bit horrified that instead of one sibling knowing what she was doing, she now had two knowing it. But at least it was only them who were making it obvious that they knew what she had been doing, and in truth she still maintained that it had been very worth it and very exciting too. 

She hoped and prayed like mad that she, Rickon and Stranger would make it out the front doors before anyone noticed how wrinkled and damp her skirt was in certain places though. She had fixed her hair and straightened herself as best she could, but despite her efforts, it was pretty obvious what she had been doing. 

Her siblings knowing was bad enough.

She waved Rickon to follow her and then waved goodbye to her sister and her lover, and led her little brother and her darling Stranger cat out, as quickly as she could without making it look like she was running like a crazy person.

“Little Bird, hold up.”

Sansa paused, blushed profusely as all eyes turned to her while she waited for Sandor to jog over to her. He bent down and laid a smacking kiss to her lips, while his hands found her hips to rest lazily. Right there… for everyone to see. And completely blowing her plans for a quick, unnoticed exit.

“Order us some Braavosi for dinner, and get my herb encrusted chicken for me?” He mumbled against her lips and pulled her back into his arms, completely uncaring of their whooping and whistling audience. “I’ll be home after this kid. He only does half the training time Rick does, so a bit over an hour. But don’t wait, I can heat my food up then.”

She nodded stupidly, confused by why he would make such a big show of asking her to order dinner. He grinned against her lips and stole another press of her lips, he even reached down to pinch her butt. 

“Thanks _baby.”_ He laughed. “Love you.”

“Love you.” She huffed a breathy laugh at his playfulness and accepted another quick kiss. 

Sansa narrowed her eyes at him, as it dawned on her that he was purposely making a scene so she couldn’t sneak away _unseen,_ after the scandalous display she had created earlier! “You did this on purpose!” She hissed incredulously.

Sandor pulled back just enough to dodge her swatting hands, laughing loudly. 

“Fucking oath I did woman! Marking my territory like the fucking dog I am! Letting all these pretty boy cunts around here know, that you’re mine.” He leaned in and kissed her again, just because he could, and apparently because the show he was putting on was amusing him no end. “Letting you mark yours too! Don’t think I missed that little blink of possession flashing in those pretty eyes of yours earlier, Little Bird. Can’t have you thinking I’d be interested in any other woman and can’t have any of them making you feel threatened by trying their luck with this old dog. Don’t want them wondering if maybe you’re just another boxing mum, paying ya kids fees on ya back, either.” He nodded over her shoulder to the brother who looked so much like her.

Sansa snorted a laugh at his ridiculous excuses and explanations and shook her head at him as he winked and walked back to his young client, who was currently being stretched out at Gendrys instruction.

“See ya at home.” He called out for everyone to hear. And then added a warning too, making her laugh. “Rick - don’t touch my Xbox or I’ll pour a bucket of cold water on ya once you’re asleep.”

She couldn’t judge him for making a point of kissing and even groping at her in front of so many people. Especially not when she had showed up at his place of work and all but ordered him to take her to his office and service her. And she didn’t really want to because she kind of liked that he just decided to throw down the unspoken _‘don’t acknowledge it, but also don’t deny it’_ rule they seemingly had up until that point, for the general public, and kick it away. 

The people who mattered to them both already knew they were together anyway, so they weren’t going to shock anyone who mattered by kissing… 

Though they might shock them if they found out that they had also been having semi public sex...

No, she couldn’t judge him for that. 

But she absolutely could and would judge the giant shithead for teasing her, which was his real reason for making that scene. He couldn’t just let her slink away unseen after the scene she had caused when she arrived. And he would have to pay for that at some point.

Sansa shook herself off and ducked down to pick Stranger up, cuddling him to herself and half hiding her face in his fur as she _finally_ made her way out with her teenage brother at her heels. Her teenage brother who was thankfully more concerned with complaining about not getting to play Sandors gaming console, than with what had been happening between her and Sandor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cough*
> 
> That happened.


End file.
